


An Entire Future Stuck With You

by Hashtagmavin



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Appendicitis, Dorks in Love, Future Married Life, M/M, Psychic AU, Psychic Abilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-01-21 19:55:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 42,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1562111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hashtagmavin/pseuds/Hashtagmavin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Psychic AU) Michael is sort of psychic. When he meets Gavin and sees that they end up having a very serious future together, he will stop at nothing to get rid of the annoying asshole before it’s too late. But Gavin is clingy and affectionate, and it’s difficult to get rid of him. And even more difficult to want to get rid of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at Hashtagmavin.tumblr.com  
> The italicized sections in the story are the ”visions.”

If Michael ever had to describe his ‘gift’ in a single word, it definitely would not be with the word ‘gift.’

While growing up, every child dreams of having super powers. Specifically so that they can be just like the famous fictional heroes that originally possess those powers. Young boys and girls read the comic books and re-watch the Saturday morning cartoons so many times that the theme tunes are stuck in their heads all the way to adulthood, never fully leaving their developing brains.

Michael admits that he used to be one of them. He doesn’t find any shame in it now, despite the irony making him cringe a little more than it should. Fate could be cruel in the oddest ways

He still remembers getting up early to watch the newest episodes of “Super Friends” or some other variation of that. He remembers reading the comic books with his friends during recess and then trading with them for the one’s he’s had yet to greedily consume with his eyes.

It wasn’t an obsession or anything. He didn’t have a room decorated with the faces or cheesy catchphrases of the popular characters (unlike some of the students in his class.) He just found simple enjoyment in something flashy, fun, and unachievable for himself. And that’s kind of what being a kid is all about.

But then without any kind of indication or warning, Michael went from wishing he could have super human powers, to actually having one.

A rather pointless one at that.

The first time he’s experienced it was when he was walking home from school.

Michael hadn’t been an overly nerdy kid, but his curly reddish hair made him stick out more from the other students. When you’re in a small town public school, being even the  _slightest_ bit different makes you a big target during your elementary years. So, he was familiar with the concept of being bullied, and always feared running into his repeat offenders again.

One moment he was just innocently (and hesitantly) walking down the sidewalk, then the next he was pulled in it. He still isn’t sure how to explain them to this day, but it’s like being sucked into his own brain for a few moments and watching his own thoughts play in front of his open eyes, completely overlapping his view of the real world for that short period of time. But he soon found out that it wasn’t actually his thoughts being displayed to him.

It felt like it  _should_ hurt, but it didn’t. It felt as though his head was exploding and leaving nothing behind untouched, but he didn’t feel any pain from it. More like he was just forced to watch from a safe distance, unable to stop or prevent it from happening.

He’d stopped walking when it happened, and let out such a loud gasp that he almost fell backwards. It only lasted a few moments, and showed a brief image of him turning a corner on his usual route home and then getting attacked by the familiar bullies from his school, who were trying to look cool by riding their bikes without helmets.

He couldn’t feel the pain of them hurting them, but he could watch for those few seconds. And then just as quickly as it began, it had ended, and he could see the sidewalk again. He panted a little, trying to catch his breath after that fright. He looked around his surroundings desperately, as though there would be somebody there to explain what had just occurred or at least comfort him after such a scare, but the world was still the same. He was still just a young boy walking home from school.

He chalked it up to being his overactive imagination. After all, he was scared of the bullies, and he was thinking about them before it happened. So despite the mass confusion he felt in his brain, he attempted to shake it off as best as he could, and continue on his usual route home.

This ended up being a bad idea.

When he turned the corner, he was struck with a déjà vu feeling as he saw the bullies riding around on their bicycles. No helmets on, and trying to pop pathetic wheelies.

It was just like how he’d seen earlier during his walk. When his brain felt like it was exploding and immersing him into the wreckage. He didn’t get much time to ponder on the fairly creepy coincidence, because the bullies quickly noticed him. It only took one shout of “Let’s get him!” for the physical bullying to begin, and Michael had never really been that good at running.

This time he  _could_ feel the pain.

Next time it happened, he was walking home from school again. He’d forgotten all about his last encounter with the bullies and whatever the hell it was that happened before that. It isn’t the first time he’d gotten beaten up, and he was sure that it wouldn’t be the last.

He wasn’t as taken off guard with it this time. As soon as it started, he’d instantly remembered the last time it happened and was able to pay closer attention.

This time he could see the same thing. Him walking down the streets, turning the corners, seeing the bullies, trying to run, not being fast enough, getting beat up. It was identical to the last one, but this time he was wearing the clothes that he’s wearing currently.

So maybe he isn’t  _just_ seeing the same thing over and over again. Maybe it’s an updated version of his encounter with bullies. Will he see this every time he’s about to have a run in with them or is in danger of getting beat up?

He ponders these things as he continues down the street, avoiding the street that he had taken in his “vision,” and taking another route home.

Michael doesn’t get beaten up that day.

In fact, the amount of times he actually gets beaten up dramatically lowers.

Throughout his elementary years, he spends his time trying to figure out the visions. He avoids telling anybody, especially his parents. Looking back on it as an adult, he doesn’t know why though. They probably could have helped or gotten him fixed somehow. Maybe this is some kind of weird fucked up thing that runs in his family, and him not mentioning it made them assume that he was born normal. If only he could be so lucky.

He thinks of it as a curse now, but during his school years it was nothing but a blessing.

He wouldn’t run into problems as much as he originally would have. Visions would randomly come and show him what is about to happen in the near future, then he could usually easily prevent that from happening.

Such as how he handled bullying in his younger years.

Attempting to gain better control over them took a long time. Sometimes they would just happen randomly on their own and he couldn’t stop that, but he discovered one day that if he squeezed his eyes shut and thought really hard, then he could actually trigger one to happen.

After doing this so many times, it because gradually easier to force the visions to come. So much easier that by the time he graduated high school, all he had to do was close his eyes and wish for a vision.

It made life easy. No risks or dangers. They had no annoying downsides like one would expect. They didn’t hurt him, give him headaches, make him sick, etc.

He’d gone through high school passing every single test given to him with no studying required. Sure, it could probably be considered cheating if they knew that he would look into the future to find out the answers, but if Michael has this gift, then why not put it to good use?

Instead of getting all nervous and sweaty before asking somebody out, he would just look into the future and see what their reaction would be. If they’d say yes, then he would go forth and actually ask them out. If not, then he’d easily just get over the petty high school crush and continue on with his life.

If his parents grounded him and told him he wasn’t allowed to leave the house, he wouldn’t have to be stuck inside all day. He could just look into the future and find out if they’d catch him sneaking out or not.

He didn’t go through high school dreading every second of it. Movies and television shows portray high school as being this horrible place where you dread every second of it. But Michael fucking loved it. It was so easy, he didn’t have any problems at all.

Socially, academically, sexually, physically, etc. Everything was perfect.

And it was all thanks to his weird and unexplained gift.

So, of course, life was even more perfect after high school.

Long story short, he’d become a fan of a popular online machinima show called “Red vs. Blue,” and it only stemmed on from there. He’d watch the company’s videos featuring the employee’s having fun and playing video games as a legitimate job.

Obviously everybody that is a fan of the production company “Rooster Teeth” would do practically anything to work there. He didn’t even consider himself being able to work there until he had a vision about it.

It featured him working in a tiny office, playing a video game while screaming at it in frustration. Mics and fancy equipment all around the room, along with other people. People that he recognizes from the online company.

Of course, as soon as the vision ended, he completely flipped shit. One day, he’s going to be working alongside the people that he practically looks up to! He spent that entire day in a state of awe and confusion.

But then in order to make sure that the vision would come true (because he was not about to let this future slip through his fingers), he started to actually make videos. Just silly little ones on his own personal YouTube channel. In the vision, he was just screaming at the game while playing it. Which isn’t really hard to believe because that’s how he usually reacts to games that he plays anyways.

So, it seemed only logical to start recording himself getting angry and screaming profanities at shitty video games.

It ended up being the correct thing to do because he started to get recognition for it. His view count would rise and he’d get an abundance of comments saying things about how much they laughed and how funny his cursing was.

Apparently watching somebody yelling angrily at a video game is hilarious to some people. Who knew!?

And then, Rooster Teeth had emailed him, saying that they were interested in him and would like to discuss job opportunities.

That was the highlight moment of Michael’s life. He wishes that the visions were a physical thing just so that he could hug them for getting this for him. Well, of course, his hard work had gotten it for himself, but without the visions he never would have had the confidence to do it.

Then, before he even realized it, he was actually working at Rooster Teeth.

_His dream job._

Working alongside the people that he’d looked up to and admired for so long. He was making actual content and coming up with video ideas with them.

They’d poke fun at him and he’d be able to poke fun right back. It was so surreal, he’d spent the first month working there in a daze, still unable to fully believe that he’s really there.

They probably have a lot more to thank him for than just his Rage Quit videos and contributions to the Let’s Play’s and podcasts. He’s been able to predict a lot of bad things and stopped them from happening.

The entire building was supposed to catch on fire once because of the oven being left on, but Michael was easily able to prevent it.

Somebody had once filled a tequila bottle with water, because of a minor misunderstanding, and Michael had seen that it caused a lot of trouble and arguments between everybody. So, instead of just letting that play out and watching everybody fight over something so pitiful, he simply just went and poured out the bottle into the sink.

And honestly, Michael is living a perfect life.

He comes into work, plays video games for a living with all of his closest friends, and gets to curse as much as he wants without any fear of being fired for it. Then, when he leaves work, he can go out and spend even more time with his friends.

His life now is just getting paid to hang out with his friends, and he definitely doesn’t mind it because they are some of the greatest people in the world.

Plus, when the day is all over, he gets to go back to the peace and quiet of his apartment. Living out the last hours of the day like the true bachelor that he is and just relax.

That’s the way Michael likes it, and it’s the way he lived for the first year that he worked at Rooster Teeth.

Everything was perfect, and he was able to stop anything from fucking it up.

Unluckily for him, he can’t foresee  _everything_.

*

"Michael!" he hears his boss cry for his attention. He turns his head to see Geoff, the man’s hand affectionately holding another unfamiliar man by the shoulder. "You’ve met Gavin right?"

"Nope, not yet," he shakes his head as he walks over. He’s heard of Gavin Free before though, multiple times. Burnie’s always mentioning how hard they’re working on getting him over here permanently, and he’s seen all of the guy’s Slow Mo Guy videos.

He nods at the new kid, not really wanting to have a full conversation because he’d just recorded a rage quit and he’s still a little on edge.

Gavin looks just as lanky and skinny as he does on YouTube. He’s grinning eagerly at Michael, obviously excited to meet a new person at his new permanent workplace and home. Michael takes note of his appearance a little more, taking in his simple light brown hair that’s stuck up out of his eyes with gel, his slightly too large nose, and his jeans that look to be a little too tight. He’s wearing a bright red shirt with the words “Touch my awesome button” printed on it, and Michael recognizes the phrase from an old Rooster Teeth short, that Gavin happened to be a part of.

It’s odd to describe, but there’s something familiar about him. Sure, he’s seen and heard a lot about Gavin’s work, but there’s an overwhelming feeling like when you’re meeting somebody important. Which is a stupid thought that Michael brushes off immediately, because while he may enjoy Gavin’s silly slow motion videos, he’s no where near a  _huge_ fan that is honored to be in his presence.

"If you didn’t already know, this is Michael Jones," Geoff introduces, "Also known as Rage Quit, Jersey, and Guido."

Michael lets out a sarcastic breathy laugh at his boss, who only beams amusedly in return.

"His desk is the one next to yours."

"What!?" Michael exclaims, anger evident in his tone, "I thought we were getting rid of that desk entirely. There’s hardly enough room in that office as it is!"

"We were going to, but then where would Gavin work?"

"I don’t fucking know, not directly next to me," he mutters while looking down at his shoes, only looking up to glare when Geoff elbows him.

"Play nice, dickwad," he warns, but his attention is immediately stolen when he sees Jack walking into the Achievement Hunter office. "Hey! Jack, wait! I’ve gotta talk to you about the new Trials video!"

And just like that, Geoff runs into the room behind Jack, leaving the two (still fairly unacquainted) boys alone.

That’s the moment in which Michael decides that he does not like Gavin Free.

Michael knows that it’s just an unfortunate mixture of his bad mood and discovery of the AH office becoming more cramped, but that annoyance has wormed it’s way into his brain and settled there. An annoyance associated with Gavin’s entire being, and it leaves Michael wanting to do nothing more than punch the guy in the face. Especially when he’s smiling like he just  _knows_ how much his presence is pissing Michael off.

"Hi!" he gives a goofy grins as he sticks out his hand, "I’m Gavin Free."

Michael raises an eyebrow at the outstretched appendage, resisting the urge to scoff. “Are you shaking hands with  _everybody_ that you meet today?”

Gavin either takes the sarcastic response in stride or doesn’t notice it at all, because he doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. “More or less,” he shrugs, but he’s still bouncing with giddy behavior. “Now, come on, mate. Are you gonna shake my hand or aren’t you?”

Michael rolls his eyes and smirks at this ridiculous exchange. “I’ll shake your dumb hand.”

He grins even wider, a satisfied glint in his eyes as he straightens his arm out even more. As though he’s going for optimum hand shaking. Michael actually does scoff this time, but finally reaches forward and takes the boy’s hand in his own.

It’s a firm grasp and Gavin briefly shakes their hands up and down, but Michael does nothing at all to contribute. Only because he’s sucked into a vision the moment their hands connect.

_Michael’s standing in front of an alter, wearing a black suit that makes him look a lot more elegant and fancy than he would ever consider himself to be._

_A quick glance at the surroundings, it’s easy to tell that it’s a church._

_What’s surprising is the sight of Gavin Free standing in front of him, wearing a similar suit and is smiling brightly at him._

_And Michael is smiling right back at him. They’re both just lovingly watching one another as though they’re the only ones in the entire room, and as though nobody else matters in this moment._

_The priest is speaking, it’s hard to hear, but he’s able to make out something about wedding vows. It’s only when Michael hears that, that he rips his attention away from the staring into his soon-to-be husband’s eyes. Then he begins to recite the vows that he’s spent so much time writing, re-writing, editing, and stressing over for so many nights._

_"When you and I first started dating, it didn’t take long to grow accustomed to your odd ways. You spoke funny, both in your British accent_ and  _ridiculous made up words. I can’t even count how much time I’ve spent yelling at you to just speak normal English, but you’d just respond by calling me a_ _little smegpot_ _.”_

_The crowd laughs, and Gavin grins at him with satisfaction. Clearly proud of his abilities to annoy so easily. Michael has to resist the urge to reach forward and kiss him right then._

_"And eventually I’d just have to give up and laugh about it," he continues. "You’d wear tight skinny jeans and you were constantly stealing my T-shirts or sweaters to wear yourself."_

_Gavin grin widens at the memories of doing such things so early in their relationship. Hearing Michael speak about things like this always fills him with those cliched fuzzy feelings that over-the-top romance movies try to pass off as a sign of true love._

_"You haven’t changed much since we’ve started dating. I’m still not sure what possessed me to decide that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, but I’m eternally grateful for it either way. Because I love you, and at this point, I can’t imagine life without you."_

When Michael snaps out of it, the first thing he sees is Gavin’s face. The concern and confusion in his eyes as he stares at the man in front of him. “Are you okay, Michael?”

Michael can’t even bring himself to think about answering that question. He tries to blink back the shock towards what he’d just witnessed, but it’s clear that even his own brain is unable to process it and the information is flooding his reasoning senses.

He stares panickedly back and forth between Gavin’s face and their entwined hands before finally pulling his away quickly. As though he’d touched something painful and dangerous.

All he knows is that he wants to get as far away from Gavin Free as fucking possible.

"I’ve gotta go!" he announces, not giving the Brit anytime to respond before bolting down the hallway, not even realizing that he’s holding his breath the entire time.

It’s only when he reaches the bathroom that he allows himself to exhale and inhale. The sanctity of being behind a locked door allows him the freedom to freak out as much as he wants as long as he’s cautious of his volume. Which is difficult, because Michael Jones is not exactly known for his silence.

So instead he covers his mouth with both hands and forces himself to breathe deeply through his nose. He’s aware of how ridiculous he looks when he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. So instead he squeezes his eyes shut, and tries to block out everything.

It doesn’t work very well.

He and Gavin get married.

_Married._

They’re standing together at a fucking alter wearing stupid suits and announcing “I do” as their idiotic friends and family watch on with tears in their eyes.

What the  _fuck_.

Michael’s never seen that far into his future, but neither of them look much older than they are now. Usually he can see up to a few days (or sometimes even a week) in advance, but this time it’s had to have been a couple of years at least.

He wouldn’t marry somebody a week after meeting them.

But the fact that he gets married to this guy at all is freaking him out. They’d only  _just_ met and now Michael knows  _that’s_ going to happen.

It’s just too much.

Sometimes people act as though being able to see into the future would be such a super cool power or ability to have, but right now it’s proving that it can be pretty fucking awful. Michael wants nothing more than to rip his hair out with frustration.

He doesn’t want to get married. At  _all_. He never has! Being able to look into a marriage and see if it ends in divorce or death, too see if he dies before his spouse or if he has to witness them die, it’s all just too fucking much. Friendships are hard enough for him to handle.

When younger he’d met and looked up to this older bachelor guy that lived next door to him. The guy had no responsibilities, and only had to look out for himself. He was always able to do whatever he wanted and wasn’t tied down to a partner or any kind. He was probably living the dream life as a single guy.

Ever since that, Michael figured that single life would be pretty sweet. He could handle living on his own for the rest of his life. He has friend, video games, and a sweet job. How could he possibly be miserable if he continues on with that for the rest of his life?

But now he can see that Gavin is fucking that all up. He’s destroyed the perfect future that Michael’s set for himself.

They may not really know one another, only having just met, but Michael is content to keep it that way. He doesn’t want to get to know Gavin. He wants nothing to do with him.

He doesn’t want to talk to him. Date him. Fuck him. Marry him. Grow old with him.  _Any_ of that bullshit.

He’s okay with being alone, and he’s gonna keep it that way.

He is able to change the future, he’s done it before. Prevented minor occurrences like the bullies in elementary school or major ones like the building fire. The more he thinks about it, the more confident he is that he can change  _this_ future.

Because Michael Jones is  _not_ falling in love with Gavin fucking Free.

And he’s gonna make fucking sure of it.


	2. Chapter 2

Getting rid of Gavin is a lot easier said than done.

Ignoring him has turned out to be more difficult than Michael assumed it would be.

Not only do they work right next to one another and have to be in videos together, but the man is very persistent on getting on friendly terms with him. He can’t go one day without hearing a whiny tone squeak out the word, “Micool!”

It’s obnoxious.

It’s annoying.

Michael hates it, and he hates Gavin.

That is the bottom line. He hates the guy. If he could have a penny for every time that he’s chanted this over and over again in his head, he would be rich by now.

He can’t even count the amount of times that he’d just be silently sitting at his desk, and then Gavin would disrupt him by nudging his shoulder or asking him ridiculous questions for seemingly no reason other than to be a pest.

It’s pretty clear that Gavin knows about Michael’s refusal to associate with him, but instead of taking offense to it, he’s actually amused by it. After all, Gavin’s known in this company for being the lovable asshole that just loves to push people.

"Hey, Michael?" Gavin asks innocently.

Michael ignores him, keeping his eyes facing the monitor and refusing to even spare a glance in the boy’s direction.

"Michael," Gavin whispers, adding in a poke to his shoulder for good measure.

His jaw clenches and he purses his lips, trying to his hardest not to have some kind of outburst. The only reason this is continuing is because everybody else in the office thinks it’s hilarious.

There’s even been an RT Life that featured Gavin trying his to hardest to get Michael’s attention. The audience thought it was hilarious, which Michael’s thankful for only because that means he won’t get chewed out anytime soon for ignoring a co-worker.

"Mi-"

"What?" he finally answers, turning to look at him abruptly with eyes filled with nothing but rage.

Gavin seems taken aback by the actual response, but it doesn’t take long for the cheeky smile to spread across his face once again.

"Are you busy?"

"Yes."

"Doing what?"

"Why does it matter to you?"

"Because maybe I could help you."

Michael raises a brow, “Help me?”

"Yeah, I’ll do whatever you want."

It’s a few moments of quiet air between them for him to realize that Gavin is being serious. He just really wants to get onto Michael’s good side, despite how much he’s willing to pretend that it’s all for the show of being a total prick to him.

Well, if Gavin wants to be a little kiss ass, then he can be a little kiss ass. It’s no skin off Michael’s back to allow Gavin to do his dirty work.

"Okay, here," he says, and gets up from his seat, "Edit the new Rage Quit. I’m going home for the night. See ya’ later, Geoff!"

Geoff gives him a nod and half assed wave to send him off, and everybody else in the room murmurs their good-byes.

Gavin’s face drops at the thought of editing forty minutes worth of Michael screaming, but doesn’t protest against it. Instead he just grits his teeth while getting up from his own desk and goes to sit in front of Michael’s.

"Yeah, no problem," he says, annoyance lacing his voice.

Michael just smirks as he walks out the door, but the smile drops from his face immediately when he has a vision.

_Michael is laying on their bed, watching Gavin as he stands, half-naked, in the middle of the room. But this isn’t a romantic or passionate moment between the two of them. Quite the opposite._

_"We’re gonna be fucking late," Michael reminds him, already fully dressed and ready to head out._

_"Just give me a-" he grunts in annoyance, "Give me a moment."_

_Michael’s head is hanging upside-down off the edge of the bed, and he can feel the blood rushing to his face but he doesn’t bother caring about it. He’s more concerned about the fact that they were supposed to have left five minutes ago._

_Gavin’s wardrobe problems are usually the reasons for their tardiness._

_He doesn’t have a shirt on yet, and he’s currently hopping around the room, still trying to stubbornly squeeze into a pair of skinny jeans._

_"Just fucking admit it. Those are the jeans you’d accidentally bought while you were drunk."_

_"They aren’t," he argues, "They fit perfectly."_

_"Clearly they don’t or you’d have them on by now."  
_

_"Don’t rush me."_

_"Ah, yes. Because putting on a pair of jeans is delicate work. Wouldn’t want to destroy your concentration."_

_"I’ve almost got it," Gavin says, hopping into the air and roughly trying to pull up the jeans past his thighs._

_Michael snickers, too amused at this scene to actually be annoyed. The look of concentration on his face for such a mediocre task is hilarious. When Gavin hears his laughter, he stops jumping to glare at him._

_"You think this is funny, do you?"_

_"Yeah, I do. You look like a soccer mom trying to prove that she can still fit into her high school jeans."_

_Gavin glares at him, but Michael can spot the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. “You’re insufferable.”_

_Michael snickers and reaches up, making grabby hands at him until he finally relents and comes closer._

_He bends down on his knees, jeans still half hanging off of his legs, and cups his husband’s upside down face in his hands. Michael’s about to make a cheesy spiderman joke, but Gavin kisses him firmly on the mouth before he can do so._

_"Upside down kisses are weird," Gavin comments, "But still strangely satisfying."_

_"Just get dressed, you goof."_

As Michael continues the walk to his apartment, he wonders why life hates him so goddamn much.

*

Gavin Free is the most ridiculous husband ever.

The visions make that much clear.

He’s always jumping around, laughing or shouting too loudly, making incredibly stupid jokes, or a massive combination of those three.

He’s a lot like he is now, but just intensified. Probably because of how close and comfortable they are with one another.

But the worst thing is that future-Michael-Jones doesn’t seem to be all that annoyed by it. He takes it all in stride, chuckling at his husband’s ridiculous antics or sometimes being just as frivolous as him for a laugh.

It’s almost like the only thing that changes between now and the (seemingly inevitable) future is Michael’s attitude towards it.

Of course, he’s too stubborn to actually consider this and continues with his current state of action.

He doesn’t really work.

The next two months are filled with Michael attempting to ignore Gavin, and Gavin trying to pester him into a friendship.

So, instead of just letting this continue even more than it is, he decides that he needs to tell somebody. He needs some kind of help or assistance, even if it’s just some kind of confirmation that ignoring Gavin is going to eventually work.

Or maybe keeping his abilities a secret his entire life is wearing him down too much. It’s never been a problem before, but now that he wishes he had somebody to talk to it about, it’s killing him inside to have nobody to confide in.

He thinks it over a lot, weighing his options on who he can tell.

While a child, he considered telling his parents many times. The only thing keeping him from doing so was the fear that they would get angry with him for abusing his powers to get out of school work and his responsibilities.

Telling them now probably wouldn’t end well. Mainly because they would still get angry for those reasons, and telling them about Gavin would only spark their annoying parental interest. He can’t handle his mother scolding him for not wanting to get married and give her grandchildren, no matter how much she’s just joking.

So the first person he ever confides his powers in is Lindsay. A spunky and adorable red headed co-worker that had grown to be one of his best friend’s in the office. She’s always cracking hilarious jokes and sending Geoff into hysterics with her video editing.

During his year working here, they have become extremely close. They always have one anothers backs, constantly willing to edit a video for the other if they aren’t up to it that day. He’s probably closest with her than he is with anybody in the office.

But she’s also understands, and has always seemed to be the type that could keep a secret.

So he spills the beans to her.

It’s just an average movie night between the two of them. He’ll often come over every Saturday and they’ll watch old cheesy rom-coms or the newest shitty horror flick that’s come out. Not because they’re actually interested in the shows, but because it’s nice to spend time together as friends without going out in the public.

They’ll stuff their faces with pizza and occasionally alcohol. Sometimes video games will be played instead or they’ll just talk about whatever they can think of. And tonight Michael has quite the topic of conversation in mind.

"I’m psychic," he says, with no warning or easing into it.

She raises an eyebrow and pulls a slice of cheese and pepperoni away from her face, “What?”

"I can see into the future."

"I know what psychic means," she says, with a small roll of her eyes, "I’m just trying to process this really weird joke."

"It isn’t a joke."

She raises a brow, “Not a joke?”

"No."

"Okay," she drags out the word with suspicion, and then drops her pizza back into the box so that she can place her full attention on him. "I’ll play along. You’re psychic, so you can see what will happen before it happens."

It wasn’t a question, but he confirms anyways.

She doesn’t look anymore convinced. “Since when?”

"Since practically forever. I think the first time I’d experienced it was in elementary school."

"How many people know?"

"As of right now? You."

"I’m the only one? You haven’t told anybody else?"

"No."

"Why not?"

He shrugs and relaxes into the back of the couch, “I don’t really know. It’s usually because I’m always able to use the power secretly to my advantage. Telling people about it would basically render the ability useless for myself.”

She squints at him, “Prove it.”

"How?"

"Well, how easily are you able to control what you see?"

"I can force myself to have a vision, if that’s what you mean. A lot of the time they just happen on their own, but I can make myself have them if I want."

"Can you think of something that you want to see and then see it?"

"Like a variable?"

"Yeah. If I were to say ‘Let’s flip a coin and you have to tell me if it’s heads or tails before we look at it,’ you would be able to do that?"

"Yes. Easily."

And so they spend the next hour or two coming up with ridiculous tests like that. Lindsay will flip coins, hold things behind her back, write a number on a piece of paper, etc. Basically anything she can think of.

By the end of it, Lindsay is convinced, and Michael is exhausted.

"So, you’re psychic."

"Yes," he breaths out, unable to put enough effort into speaking properly. He doesn’t force visions very often, and when he has to do it multiple times in a row, it almost makes him want to collapse.

"That’s pretty fucking cool," she grins, pulling him down to rest his head onto her lap. He’s too tired to fight against her treating him like a child, so he goes along with it. Besides, she begins running her fingers through his curly hair and it’s so soothing that he almost falls asleep right there.

"Thanks. Figured if I had to tell anybody it would be you."

"Well, you’ve made the right choice, Michael Jones," she snickers, and then presses a friendly kiss to his cheek, "I won’t tell a soul if you don’t want me to, and I’ll always be here for assistance if you need it. I’ll be like the Eddie and Chelsea to your Raven."

"I specifically didn’t go to Ray because I wanted to avoid the  _That’s So Raven_ jokes.”

She giggles out an apology, but Michael has drifted off before he can hear it.

*

When he wakes up the next morning, it’s to the smell of food cooking.

He’s laying on Lindsay’s couch, a purple blanket thrown over his body and a pillow placed beneath his head. He didn’t plan on sleeping over to Lindsay’s, but clearly he was much too exhausted to even think about driving himself home last night.

"Rise and shine, asshole!" he hears Lindsay yell as she walks into the room, harshly banging an empty pot with a spoon.

The noise echoes in his head and he’s too busy flinching from the noise to reach up and cover his ears.

Michael lets out a loud groan, “What the fuck is wrong with you.”

"It’s breakfast time!"

He would complain, but she finally stops making loud noises with her kitchen appliances and he’s much too thankful for that.

"What are you cooking?"

  
"Some psychic you are," she scoffs as she exits the room, missing the roll of his eyes.

He doesn’t bother giving her a response, instead sitting up and stretching his tired limbs. Probably looking extremely child-like as he rubs his eyes and lets out a loud yawn.

Keeping his eyes open is easier said that done. It’s extremely bright in here, and he’s suffering from a major headache right now. Her wake-up call didn’t do much to soothe it.

Forcing visions too often sometimes leaves him feeling as though he’s suffering through a painful hangover. He considers it worth it though since now he has somebody that believes him.

"Here," Lindsay says, coming back into the room and handing him a plate.

Eggs and bacon.

Goddamn does he ever appreciate Lindsay sometimes.

"Thank you," he murmurs, his own voice echoing in his brain.

She sits down next to him on the couch with her own plate of breakfast. They waste no time, both in digging into their food and starting the conversation. “So, I’ve been thinking a lot about your whole… future-seeing thing.”

"Oh?"

"Yes, and I’ve decided that you’re hiding something else from me."

That makes him raise an eyebrow as he stares at her. Her eyes are narrowed with amused suspicion and her lips are pressed into a tight line. But the smug expression is evident on her face, as though she’s pleased with herself for knowing him so well.

"What would make you think that?" he asks innocently. He knows this is going to end with telling her, but it’s fun to plead the fifth instead of just coming right out and saying it. He and Lindsay have too playful of a friendship for that.

"I don’t  _think._  I  _know_ ,” she smirks.

A few moments pass between them in silence as they glare at one another. Finally Michael cracks and rolls his eyes again, “Fine. It’s about Gavin.”

"Gavin Free?" she asks, and shovels a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

"Yeah, I’m getting married to him."

Her eyes widen and she has to cover her mouth to avoid coughing out eggs all over her lap.

"Yeah, my thoughts exactly."

"You’re getting married!?"

"Not right now, you idiot," he points at his eyes, "Psychic, remember?"

"Is that why you’ve been ignoring him so much? Because you know that you end up fucking him?"

"I haven’t been ignoring him," he denies, "Just… Not talking or looking at him."

"Are you scared that you’re going to instantly fall in love with him?" her tone turns to teasing, and now he regrets telling her about the Gavin thing to begin with.

"No, because I’m not. I don’t love him, and I never will. Sometimes visions are wrong."

"Are they?"

He scowls down at his plate, “No. Not unless I prevent them from happening.”

" And you think going to prevent yourself from falling in love with Gavin."

"Yes."

"Are you sure that’s really a good idea?"

"Why wouldn’t it be?"

"Well, what’s your future with him like? Are you guys unhappy or something?"

He considers telling her the truth, but knows that it will only result in her calling him a fucking moron and smacking him upside the head. His aching brain can’t take anymore abuse today. “Yes, extremely unhappy. So, I’m going to stop us both from the tragic heartbreak that I have already predicted.”

She raises an eyebrow, “You guys are totally happy together, aren’t you?”

Michael drops his head into his hands in defeat, “I don’t know, okay? All I’ve seen so far are a few bits and pieces.”

"I thought you could look into it and see more."

"I can, but I don’t want to! I don’t even want the ones that are naturally occurring. I don’t want to see myself happily married to some guy that I don’t even know. I don’t want to get married at all. I just want him to fuck off and take his goddamn skinny jeans with him."

She’s quiet, allowing him this small outburst. When he finishes and refuses to meet her eyes, she shrugs with a hint of pity in her own eyes. “You’re denying yourself of your own happiness.”

"No, I’m not. I’m denying myself of a  _mistake_.”

She nods, not wanting to upset him or start an argument, but Michael knows that she disagrees with him.

Somewhere deep inside, he disagrees with himself.


	3. Chapter 3

Lindsay stays true to her word. She doesn’t tell anybody, and it’s a huge relief off of Michael’s shoulders.

Living with a secret for so long is difficult, especially one that you’ve kept to yourself during the entirety of it. It feels nice to finally confide in somebody.

He’s thankful for how quickly they skimmed over it. There was no huge reveal where she was shocked and freaked out about it. He was just able to simply tell her, explain it, prove it, and then that was it. Almost as though this kind of thing happens every day for him.

It makes things easier.

What didn’t get easier was hating Gavin.

Doing Rage Quit on his own had gotten boring, even Geoff agreed that adding another person in occasionally could be a good idea. Just to liven things up a bit and give Michael somebody to bounce his insults off of. It would be a lot funnier to scream at an actual person instead of just the game, and it would make it easier for him to come up with insults.

Michael thought it was an awesome idea until the person chosen to be involved was Gavin.

"Absolutely not," Michael states, crossing his arms.

He and Geoff had been discussing the Rage Quit co-op type thing for a few days, and it’s only now that he’s brought up the suggestion of Gavin. But being stuck in the office with only his boss makes it kind of difficult to sneak away from the conversation or push it into another direction.

"It’s a good idea, you have to admit."

The huge problem here is that it would be a good idea, at least for video content. All of his views come from him getting angry at frustrating video games, and everybody from the office has already witnessed first hand how funny it is to watch him scream at Gavin for not leaving him alone.

He knows he sounds like an idiot for trying to convince Geoff that it wouldn’t be a good idea, because it so obviously would be.

"It wouldn’t be. Gavin’s an asshole, and I don’t really want to do any videos with him. Why can’t we just pick somebody else?"

"Because nobody else is that big of an asshole."

He has a point.

"What would we even do? Gavin just sit there watching while I play a game? And then I occasionally turn to him and call him an idiot? Wow, six million view idea there, Geoffrey," his tone is laced with sarcasm but Geoff just shrugs it off.

"You say that like it’s a joke, but it’s true. You two have good chemistry."

He has to stop himself from letting out a gasp when he’s unexpected pulled into a vision.

_Michael is confused when he enters the dark house. All of the lights are off except for the single lamp next to the door._

_"Gavin?" he calls out into the darkness, thinking that he must not be home. Who would really spend their day alone in the pitch black like this?_

_It’s only then that he realizes that the lamp near the door must be on for a reason. It’s there to bring his attention to the note stuck to the wall. He easily recognizes the familiar chicken scratch writing, and quickly understands that something is going on._

_Michael raises an eyebrow and reads it, amusement growing with each word._

_'Dear Michael Jones,_

_I see that you have arrived home. Welcome._

_But I must inform you that as soon as you turn off this lamp, the war has begun. Inside the shopping bag to the left of the lamp is your weapon. Use it wisely, as you are not allowed to refill it. I have my own, just as much ammo as yours. The rules are as follows:_

_-No using any source of light. The house lights, television, fridge light, cell-phone, etc are not permitted._

_-No speaking._

_-No leaving the house._

_-Camping is permitted, but be wary._

_Failure to follow any of these rules is an automatic forfeit._

_First to be hit is the loser and the other will be crowned victorious. Good luck and welcome to the war, Michael Jones. Let’s hope it is good to you._

_-Gavin Free <3’_

_Michael takes a brief moment to just let it settle in and reads the notes over a few times._

_Really? Is this what Gavin’s spent his entire day coming up with? We really need to get him a hobby. But Michael’s willing to entertain him and go along with this ridiculous game. It’s obvious that his boyfriend’s put a lot of thought into it._

_Michael has to hold back chuckles when he opens up the shopping bag on the floor and pulls out a water gun. It has a see through water compartment, but it’s clear that it is not actually filled with water._

_It looks like it’s actually filled with orange juice._

_Why… Why orange juice? So that it’ll be easier to determine if they’ve been hit or not? So that they can’t cheat and try to refill their guns easily? You reach a point, with dating Gavin, where you just learn that it’s better not to ask questions. Which is probably why Michael is agreeing to the silent battle._

_He and Gavin should not be allowed to live alone together, because it’s almost like leaving two toddlers to fend for themselves._

_He cocks his water gun, and snickers to himself as he reaches over to turn off the lamp. Right before the house is engulfed with darkness, he swears he hears the faintest of giggles._

_By the end of this night, it’s clear that every piece of furniture in their house is going to be_ covered _with orange juice._

He shakes himself of the post-vision haze, trying to make it seem casual.

"We do not." He almost wishes he could say those words with more of his true temper towards them, but it wouldn’t do much other than make Geoff suspicious. So, he’s left to fume about it in his own head.

"Just play a co-op video game with him for an hour or so, record it, edit it, then put it up on the fucking site," Geoff states, and it’s clear that there’s no arguing his way out of this, but that doesn’t mean Michael’s about to stop complaining.

"But I don’t want to."

"Shut up, you’re playing video games for a living. You don’t get to complain," he points out, leaning back in his desk chair with his hands clasped behind his head.

Luckily, as soon as their conversation ends, the door opens and the man of the hour walks into the office.

"Gavin!" Geoff greets, a mocking grin on his face as he turns to Michael, "Just the guy we were talking about."

Michael just glares at the two.

"Me?"

"Yeah, turns out, you’re going to be doing a Rage Quit with Michael. Congratulations."  
  


"When?"

"Right now, because I know Michael will try to get out of it otherwise."

"I’m already trying to get out of it," he points out, but Geoff doesn’t pay any attention to him.

"Play that new Slender game that the entire internet is shitting their pants over."

"It isn’t even a multi-player game."

"You’ll think of something," is all Geoff says before leaving the office and shutting the door behind him. Leaving both he and Gavin alone in utter silence. Only the sound of the humming computers and game consoles to heighten the uncertainty.

Gavin sits down at his own desk, but turns to face him. He’s slightly bouncing in his seat and he’s grinning wider than Michael’s ever seen before. He’s just excited and overeager because he knows that this is the last thing that Michael actually wants to do.

"Fucking hell, fine, get over here," Michael finally says. He doesn’t even wait for Gavin to respond before reaching over and pulling his desk chair over by the arm rests. "We’re recording this video, and then that’s it, okay?"

"Okay," Gavin agrees, "What’s it called? Slender?"

They spend the next few minutes preparing the equipment in silence. Or rather, Michael wishes it were silent and Gavin continues to ask him questions about the game or the Rage Quit’s in general.

"Yeah, you have to collect pages or some shit. I’ve already written up a cheat sheet for where they all are, so it shouldn’t be too difficult. I guess you can take the mouse, and I’ll take the keyboard?"

"Sure. Do you think people will like it?"

"I don’t know. Maybe?"

"They will. We’d make a good team, you and I, wouldn’t we?"

"I don’t think so."

"I think so."

Michael rolls his eyes and tries to ignore Gavin’s consistent rambling.

He tries to keep his cool during the recording, mainly because he knows if he gets angry, then the video will be funny. If the video is funny, then Geoff’s going to want more Michael/Gavin collaborations.

The game is pretty boring when it starts. It’s just their character in a dark forest, the only source of light is a tiny flashlight (that Gavin insists on calling a torch)

"If you’re alone in the woods, what would be a good song to sing?" Gavin asks, wasting no time in beginning the stupid questions.

Michael doesn’t in bother giving him a response, and instead just gives him a blank look. Gavin answers his own question by singing a few lines from the song “ _Stayin’ Alive_ " to himself while clicking on and off the flashlight to the beat.

"You will not be staying alive by the end of this video," Michael warns. Gavin isn’t fazed by it and bursts into childish giggles.

The game isn’t even that scary in itself, but when they turn a corner and the Slenderman is standing there, it’s terrifying. Especially when the sound vibrates through their eardrums.

It’s hard not to cry out in fear at a jump scare.

_Michael walks through the front door of their new house. In his arms is a medium sized box, which isn’t odd considering the fact that he’s carrying it into the kitchen of their home, which is filled with other boxes of various sizes._

_The house is empty, the only thing giving it any life are the walls that look to be freshly painted, and the brown cardboard boxes littered sloppily onto the floor. There doesn’t seem to be any type of system on where they’re being placed, more like they’re just being put into this room for now._

_He’s wearing casual clothing, a pair of simple blue jeans, and a wife beater. Probably due to the heat outside, which is only apparent because to how much he’s sweating._

_Or maybe he’s just exhausted from carrying in all of these boxes._

_"Where the hell are you, fuck face?" he calls out with annoyance, his voice echoing on the empty walls throughout the house._

_He doesn’t get a response. Michael rolls his eyes and begins his way back to the front door. Or, at least he would._

_As soon as he turns around, one of the cardboard boxes opens rapidly without warning. The flaps on top, used to close the thing, fly open. Gavin pops out, a mischievous grin plastered across his face and his arms thrown in the air. “Boo!” he screams loudly._

_He has to give himself props for not letting out a high pitched scream at that. Instead he just gasps loudly and jumps a few feet in the air._

_If their neighbors weren’t wary of them before, they certainly are now with the amount of noise Gavin’s just made._

_Gavin bursts into a fit of giggles, trying to cover his mouth to contain them. Michael glares at him as he holds a hand over his rapidly beating chest, glaring at the boy for scaring him._

_"You should have seen your face! It was priceless!" Gavin cries._

_Michael tries to hold back a smile, but the twitching corners of his mouth give away his amusement._

_Instead of rolling his eyes, calling him a fucking moron, and then continuing with moving boxes, he lifts up a foot and roughly kicks the box housing the still laughing Brit._

_The weight of Gavin standing in the box is no match against Michael’s forceful kick. It topples to the floor, the smile wiping off of Gavin’s face immediately and his arms flailing wildly, desperately to catch something that will prevent his fall._

_The sound of him landing on the hardwood floor echoes throughout the house much like Michael’s voice had, and much like the sound of Gavin’s groans of pain._

_"Michael, why?" he cries, although there’s a hint of amusement behind the agony._

_Michael just smirks and rolls his eyes. After muttering out an affectionate, “Fucking moron,” he walks back out through the front door to get another box._

_Leaving his boyfriend to lay in a heap, half in a box and half on the floor._

He comes back out of his vision just in time to get the shit scared out of him from the Slenderman appearing in front of them in the game. Paired with the music and abrupt noises, it’s enough to make anybody jump.

Both he and Gavin let out a screech, jumping back in their chairs. Gavin completely falls out of his, the only thing keeping him from dropping to the ground is his grip on Michael’s sleeve.

"Oh shit!" Michael yells, but at this point he’s laughing too. Both at their reactions and at getting such a large scare over a silly video game. "Grab the mouse! You idiot!"

Gavin’s laughing loudly, squealing out his name as he tries to regain control of the mouse so that their character doesn’t get murdered.

"Go!" Michael drags out the word, wishing he could say it with more frustration, but it’s difficult when everything about the current circumstances is just hilarious.

It takes a few moments for things to calm down, but he still has a smile on his face. They continue their path down the hallways, flinching every time they turn a corner.

"I’m gonna close my eyes," Gavin says, "Is he there?"

Michael’s annoyed at how much fun he’s having. “No,” he giggles out, just as relieved to see an empty hallway as Gavin is.

Despite all of his attempts not to fight or get too worked up, it happens anyways. And then it doesn’t take very long for the room to be filled with Gavin screaming in terror, and Michael yelling at him for being a fucking moron.

"What are you doing!?"

"Are we walking towards the tree!? Are we walking towards the tree!?" Gavin lifts up the cheat sheet and only looks at it for a brief second before throwing it back down, "This is not helpful in anyway!"

While editing the video later, and seeing the look on both his and Gavin’s faces as their laughing together, he’s able to come to one simple conclusion.

He’s  _still_  fucked.


	4. Chapter 4

It only gets worse as times passes.

Now that he and Gavin have filmed that video together, it seems like the boy thinks that he’s finally got an opening. Michael hates to admit it, but he kind of does.

Instead of being able to out right ignore all of Gavin’s attempts at interaction, he’s almost forced to respond to them now. It’s getting harder and harder to not grin at his stupid jokes, especially when paired with the boy’s laughter. Gavin will ask him questions, and he’ll find himself answering before even realizing that he’s doing so.

"Michael, we’re friends, right?" Gavin asks one day when their alone in the office.

That’s another thing is that he isn’t so terrified to be alone in the office with him anymore. Before he’d sprint out of there as quickly as he could, but now he’s more relaxed about it. He still attempts to avoid Gavin as much as possible, but if the boy tries to start a conversation, it doesn’t take long for him to surrender.

"No."

Gavin ignores him and continues, “So, if I asked you to drive me to Jersey Mikes to get some lunch, you would take me, right?”

"No."

"Michael," he whines, "I haven’t gotten to eat yet today."

"I’m not your fucking chauffeur. Go ask Geoff or some shit, I don’t give a shit if you’re little fucking tummy is empty. Learn to drive, moron."

"But I want food! Don’t you want lunch too?"

"Not really, I had a big breakfast. I could go another hour or two."

"I can’t. So, let me treat you to lunch."

"You’re going to buy food for me?"

"Well, no. I meant treat as in ‘You can also purchase food while we’re there.’"

"I could get food with or without you."

"But I’m asking you nicely!"

"You did not! You technically didn’t even ask me. You gave me a hypothetical question about if I would drive you there."

"Michael?"

He lets out a sigh, already knowing where this is going. “What?”

"Will you drive me to Jersey Mikes?"

"No."

"Come on!" he exclaims, jumping backwards in his chair and rolling back a few feet, "It isn’t that far away!"

"I’m busy, I have shit to do."

"But I’m really-"

Michael doesn’t get to hear the rest of Gavin’s complaint.

_Michael walks out of the delivery room, still in a complete daze. He’s surprised he’s even able to walk straight, it feels like he’s high off of life right now._

_He’s a_ dad _._

_He has a baby. A tiny human that will grow up and learn everything from him. Somebody that will look up to him and expect him to be a good role model. No amount of advice or parenting books could prepare him for the feeling that brings._

_A baby._

_He just witnessed his own child being born._

_He considers his life to be filled with more positive highlights than negative, but this moment is at the top of the list._

_"Michael!" he hears people crying out his name as he soon as he enters the waiting room._

_All his friends and family are there, staring at him and eagerly awaiting any kind of news. But all he can focus on is Gavin, who launches out of his chair and towards him, only stopping just in time to avoid colliding with him. He hands are placed on both of Michael’s shoulders, mainly because his husband does not look too steady on his feet._

_He doesn’t say anything, nobody does for the longest time. They just continue to stare at him, waiting for him to finally regain the ability to speak._

_And then he does._

_"We have a baby girl," is all he’s able to croak out weakly._

_Gavin’s face drops in awe and amazement. “A girl?”_

_"Yeah. Seven pounds, twelve ounce’s."_

_"And she’s…"_

_"Healthy. Both her_ and _mamma are perfect,” he answers, using the playful nickname they’d given nine months ago._

_"Oh my god," Gavin murmurs, a grin finally spreading across his face, "We have a baby girl."_

_"I know."_

_"We’re dads."_

_Michael lets out a breathy laugh, trying his hardest to ignore the happy tears pricking his eyes. Gavin pulls him into such a tight hug that he can hardly breath, but he isn’t complaining because he squeezes him back just as tightly._

_"I know."_

"Michael? You okay?"

Michael slams his fists down on his desk as he gets up out of his desk chair. He grabs Gavin by the sleeve of his shirt and pulls him out of his own chair.

He can’t stand to be in this tiny fucking room anymore, and if dragging Gavin’s sorry ass to get food means that he’s getting some fresh air, then he’s willing to do it.

"Come the fuck on, we’re going to Jersey Mikes."

*

He was hoping that he’d be saved from having a conversation with Gavin in the car by just turning up the radio, but to no avail.

"What are you gonna get?"

"Don’t know," he mutters sarcastically, "Probably a sub. I hear they sell those there."

"Well, I know that. I was wondering what you were going to get on it."

"Why do you care?"

"I think a person’s condiment choices on sandwiches says a lot about them."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, like what if it was like a horoscope or something. If you like mustard then maybe you’re destined to have good luck today."

"That is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. I’m convinced that you just go home, think of dumb shit, and then try to worm it into every conversation that you can."

"I’m being serious!"

"You’re talking about mustard astrology!"

Gavin laughs, his nose scrunching up in delight at his ridiculous thoughts actually starting a conversation. “Your future isn’t written in the stars, Michael. It’s written in the ketchup.”

"And people wonder why I try to keep as far away from you as possible."

"Condiments are an important part of the sandwich process," Gavin insists, "So what’s your favorite?"

Without even realizing it, they’ve started bonding over a conversation about condiments of all things.

"I don’t know," Michael shrugs, "Relish?"

"Gross, you like relish?"

  
"Yeah, why not? You don’t like it?"

"Hate it."

"What  _do_  you like then?”

"Um, I think mayonnaise is my favorite. I love mayo."

_"Hey, Gav?" Michael calls out, peeking his head into the living room to find his boyfriend sitting on the couch._

_The television is on the highest volume, an old episode of ‘Saved By The Bell’ playing on it, but Gavin isn’t paying any attention. Instead he has in earphones and is editing a new Slomoguys videos._

_"Yeah?" he responds, pulling out one of his earphones. It probably doesn’t do him any good though because the volume of the TV would be just as impossible to hear over._

_"Turn that shit down!"_

_Gavin rolls his eyes, as though reaching for the remote and presses the mute button is such a hassle. “There, you happy?”_

_He smiles sweetly in response, “Very. Sorry I put you through that pain.”_

_"You should be."_

_Michael smirks, “That’s not what I came in here for. I grabbed us some lunch from Whattaburger. Here.”_

_Gavin clasps his hands together excitedly at the prospect of food before moving his computer off of his lap and placing it on the coffee table in front of him. Michael hands him the fast food bag as he sits down next to him, casually stretching out his legs across Gavin’s lap as he relaxes into his place._

_They unwrap their food in silence, and Michael doesn’t even get one bite into his until he hears Gavin let out a whine._

_"You got mayo on it!"_

_Michael narrows his eyes at his boyfriend, looking over at the burger that Gavin’s peeled the top bun off. Yes, that is indeed mayonnaise on it._

_"Yeah, so what?"_

_"You know that I hate mayo."_

_"You do not."_

_"I do so!"_

_"You do not hate mayo. You’ve said the complete opposite before on multiple occasions."_

_"No, I haven’t."_

_"You_ like _mayonnaise,” he argues, and then rolls his eyes, knowing that this back and forth will go on forever until he outright solves it.  ”Let me ask you a question then. Gavin, do you like mayonnaise?”_

_Gavin shrugs, “No. Not really.”_

_"What!?"_

_"No!"_

_"I swear to god you’ve said before that you love mayonnaise."_

_Gavin laughs loudly, “I have not!”_

_"Just shut up and eat your fucking burger."_

_"But it has mayo on it!" he cries, moving the food away from his face as though even the smell of it is an insult to him._

_"Really? You aren’t going to eat it now_  just  _because it has mayo on it?”_

_"It’s a big deal."_

_Michael has to muster up all of his inner strength not to reach over and smack his boyfriend upside the head. Instead he takes the burger out of Gavin’s hand and replaces it with his own. Thus switching their burgers and giving himself the one that’s been ‘soiled’ with mayo._

_"There, are you happy now, you little baby?"_

_"Yes," Gavin nods happily, and then takes a bite into his. His contentment doesn’t last long though because he immediately begins gagging once he tastes what he’d just put in his mouth._

_Michael raises an eyebrow at his dramatics. This is why he refuses to take Gavin to fancy restaurants, he’s just too goddamn childish._

_Gavin takes the bun off of his new burger, and throws his head back in disgust and exasperation._

_"There’s_ relish _on it!”_

_Instead of getting even more frustrated, Michael just laughs at the expense of his boyfriend’s weak taste buds._

As Michael comes back from his vision, he just smirks to himself and mutters, “You idiot.”

*

Things maintained after that. They stayed the same for a while.

Gavin kept being a lovable idiot that Michael would  _try_  to ignore, the visions continued showing them as being happily married and in love, and life wasn’t getting any easier for the company’s secret psychic.

But at least Michael stopped beating himself up about it. He allowed himself to relax and not be so uptight. Especially during Let’s Play videos.

Geoff was right, the audience fucking loved them together. In the comments they were demanding more interaction between the two and it was hard to deny it as a good idea.

So he’d start talking with Gavin a little more in the videos, team up with him every so often or try to help him win.

He knows that eventually he’s going to have to do more one-on-one videos with the guy, but for now their able to please the audience with just this.

They’re playing Minecraft one day and Michael’s been doing a great job of just having silly back and forth banter with Gavin. It’s how most of the videos go nowadays, he and the guys will poke fun at the Brit and then everybody will have a big laugh at his failure to win any episodes.

This time is different though because Gavin might just win.

The game is simple. Minecraft has a selection of different dyes that you can find and use to color wool. Michael himself was doing very well, mainly because he still doesn’t really understand how to play Minecraft and because sheep seem to be an endangered species around Achievement City.

Gavin had a great lead though. He’d gotten all of the wool he needed almost immediately after starting the game, and then he’d found coco beans, the most challenging thing to find.

"So, I’m left now with the two easiest ones to get, I think. I just need a squid wool. Uh, a squid, uh, jizz sac," Gavin stumbles over his own words, which causes everybody else to roll their eyes.

"So, somebody just keep Gavin out of the fucking water."

_"I win! Suck my nob!" Gavin cries with excitement, and Michael can see him bouncing wildly in his seat._

_Everybody else in the room groans with playful grumpiness while he celebrates._

_"I won! I’ve done it! My second tower of pimps!"_

_"Shut up!" Michael yells, running towards Gavin’s character to smack it._

_"Michael, no! I’m the champion, you can’t kill the champion."_

_"How the fuck did you get fucking squid ink so fast?" Geoff asks._

_"I found them almost immediately, I just didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you guys to come and kill me," he answers._

_"Shit, he’s getting smarter," Jack teases._

_"Who was supposed to keep an eye on Gavin and stop him from winning?"_

_"I assumed somebody else would do it!"_

_Gavin cheers again, cackling to himself as builds the tower next to his house. “One, two, three, four!” he cries as he jumps on the top of it._

_Everybody else shakes their heads, “That was an unfair win.”_

_Gavin is appalled, “It was totally fair! It’s not my fault you morons were too busy looking out for yourselves than to stop me.”_

_"I was so close, those fucking coco beans," Geoff whines, and everybody else laughs at his misery._

"Oooh, swimmy time, swimmy time," Gavin sings as he runs his character down the rail track.

Well, if nobody else is going to stop Gavin from winning the Tower of Pimps, then Michael is going to have to do it himself.

He follows Gavin’s creeper character. He acts casual, not giving any hints that he’s trailing right behind him, even laughing at Ray’s nose joke at Gavin’s expense.

"Punching the squid in it’s ovary sacs!" Gavin sings quietly to himself, then begins crying that he’s going to drown soon.

Michael sees his opening and makes his own character swim forward, punching Gavin’s creeper to death before he has a chance to raise back up to the surface and save himself.

"Bye, Gavin!" he says with a chuckle. Everybody else joins in with laughter when the kill feed announces that Michael’s slain him.

The rest of the game goes smoothly. He continues to murder Gavin whenever he sees him in the game, and kills any squids that he finds. It takes all of three seconds for him to become a squid ink hoarder and disriputer.

Infact, his sharing of his ink sacks is what helps Geoff win the game.

That’s right, he was finally able to successfully change the future of Gavin Free from winning his second Tower of Pimps to being the almost-champion of Wool Collecting.

"Oh, for Geoff? Geoff already won."

"Oh yeah?" Michael asks, a satisfied smirk spreading across his face already.

"You won!?" Gavin cries, "What!?"

The entire room bursts into laughter, spending the next few minutes just making fun of Gavin and his failure to win the tower for yet another week.

"We sacrifice this tower to Geoff because he has won and he is victorious in battle," Michael says as he runs around the it, giggling along with Geoff immaturely.

Gavin is silent, and it’s even harder for Michael not to burst out into full laughter when he turns to see Gavin shaking his head with playful annoyance at his monitor.

"Gavin you’re so ma- Look at Gavin just stomping around Achievement City," he points out, "He like  _I can’t believe it! Goddammit!_ He’s so mad. He’s so crushed.”

Making Gavin loose in a video game has never been so satisfying. Mainly because it’s proved to him that changing a future that has Gavin involved is still possible. He isn’t some special everything-about-me-is-set-in-stone case that Michael has to work around.

If he was able to screw over Gavin so easily in a simple game, then he confident that he still has a chance at stopping their impending relationship before it happens.

But deep down it also worries him even more.

Because if he was able to change the future of Gavin winning a simple video game, why is it so fucking difficult to change the future of them getting together?


	5. Chapter 5

"How many views does that Slender Rage Quit have now?" Ray asks, turning in his seat to face Michael.

"Uh, I think around three million," he estimates. Last time he’d checked it was only 100,000 away from four million, but he doesn’t want to round it up that high because he knows the guys would be even more amazed than they already are.

"Holy shit, that’s crazy," Jack says, turning around to join their conversation, "You two need to do more videos."

"Don’t want to."

Ray shrugs and turns back to his monitor, “I don’t see why, clearly the audience loves it.”

"I don’t give a shit about the audience. I hate Gavin, and I don’t want to do videos with him."

"You haven’t been ignoring him much as of late."

"Well, that’s about to change. No more talking to Gavin, starting now."

"Really?" Ray asks doubtfully.

"Yes."

The guys chuckle, some mumbling under their breath that they’ll ‘ _Believe it when they see it._ ’

Michael doesn’t care.

Ignoring Gavin completely may not have worked, but neither has tolerating minor interactions with him. The only thing talking to him as done is made him want to talk to the guy more. Then stupid thoughts begin to invade Michael’s brain, like how cute Gavin’s laugh is or how he can’t help but chuckle at the ridiculous jokes he tells.

That’s the worst thing about Michael’s visions. They’ve never outright told him how to prevent the things that’s happening in them.

He doesn’t know if being involved with preventing the event is going to fix it altogether or fuck it up even more. He’s left scrambling with so many different options and (presumably) a limited amount of time to fix it.

It’s probably the greatest downside to having future-seeing abilities.

He does hold the capability to change the future, but no matter what he does, the visions of he and Gavin being married continue.

So, he figures that if he just continues with his previous plan of not speaking to Gavin at all, then things will turn out for the better, right? How could he end up marrying somebody that he refuses to even speak to?

When Geoff walks in the four of them all turn to the door, curious as to why he’s alone.

"Hey, assholes," their boss greets, "Who’s editing that Titan Fall video today?"

"I am," Ray answers, "Working on it right now. Where’s Gavin?"

Geoff rolls his eyes as he plops down into his desk chair. “The little bitch had a tummy ache and stayed home today.”

Everybody snickers before turning back to their monitors, everybody except for Michael. As soon as the words leave Geoff’s mouth, he’s pulled into a vision.

A vision that leaves his body in a state of panic while he’s forced to watch it. It reminds him of when the Rooster Teeth building was going to catch on fire, and he’d tripped over his own two feet, stumbling in his rush to prevent it.

But this time it’s worse because he’s actually seeing Gavin, laying in a hospital bed, and hearing the words of the doctor. Michael doesn’t really understand anything that he’s saying, mostly because he’s too busy focusing on Gavin. Unmoving and silent.

The doctor says something about his appendix rupturing, and he wishes he could have heard more, but he feels the vision slipping away until it’s gone completely.

As soon as Michael’s returned back to the real world, he doesn’t hesitate in jumping out of his chair and dashing for the door.

He hears everybody in the room calling after him, but it doesn’t work to slow him down in the slightest.

Gavin doesn’t just have a ‘little tummy ache.’ He has  _appendicitis_. And instead of being in a hospital being looked over by doctors, he’s at home. Probably suffering with the pain in bed, thinking he can sleep it off.

There’s an uneasy and horrible feeling developing in Michael’s gut at the thought. Being thrust into a moment of panic and shock so quickly is enough to make anybody want to throw up.

All he really cares about right now is getting to Gavin, and then getting him to the hospital. He’s probably completely unaware of the fact that he has appendicitis, and people can die from that shit.

Michael may have spent the last few months completely ignoring him and attempting to stay away, but he isn’t about to let him die. And even if he isn’t going to die, he’s probably in severe pain right now.

He’s willing to break his oath of silence towards the boy if it means getting him to the hospital.

*

"Gavin!" he yells, not even bothering to knock on the door to the man’s shed.

When he’d first gotten out of his car, he’d went into the main house. Finding it completely empty had him panicking for a moment, but then he realized that he’s a fucking moron and Gavin lives in the tiny unit in the backyard.

Maybe he just isn’t good during situations of stress like this or he’s too emotionally invested now.

He feels his breath coming out in quick pants. He isn’t concerned about the fact that he probably looks insane, running around somebody else’s home, and screaming out Gavin’s name in a frenzied panic.

He climbs up the ladder to the loft, only enough so he can peek his head up to view the landing. Gavin’s once claimed on the podcast that it’s haunted, and that he’s seen the face of some dude in his window while trying to sleep up here.

But there’s nobody up here at the moment, no Gavin or ghosts.

It’s when he goes to check that bathroom that he finally quiets down enough to hear the muffled whine before entering.

His eyebrows pull together in immediate concern and frustration for not going in there first. “Gav?” he yells out, giving the door three swift raps to match it, “Are you in there?”

"Michael?" he hears somebody calls out weakly.

He can’t help himself from letting out a sigh of relief. “I’m coming in, okay?”

Gavin doesn’t protest, so after waiting a few seconds, Michael walks into the room.

There’s no vomit, like Michael was expecting, but Gavin is hunched over next to the toilet. The only thing keeping him propped up is his elbows resting on the seat.

Gavin’s face has lost a lot of it’s natural color. His cheeks are flushed and it almost looks as though the boy is only a few minutes away from actually dying right now. His eyes look dead themselves, they keep half closing but it’s probably only because of how exhausted he is. His hair, which is usually stayed to stick up and away from his eyes, is stuck to his forehead and plastered there with the thick layer of swear that covers Gavin’s entire body.

But what Michael pays attention to the most is the arm wrapped around Gavin’s stomach. Clutching his side where the pain is probably stemming from.

Fucking hell, Michael wishes he would have gotten here sooner.

"Hey, Gavvy," he coos out softly, taking slow paced steps toward the man.

"What are you doing here?" is all Gavin bothers to mumble out, his eyes narrowing with confusion.

His shoulders are hunched and when Michael looks closely enough at his fingers it looks like their trembling.

Michael kneels down next to him and puts a hand on his forehead. If it wasn’t obvious that he was burning up before, then the heat beneath the palm of his hand is definite proof. Gavin turns away and towards the toilet, gagging into it but failing to actually throw up.

"Come on, I’m taking you to a hospital," Michael says, but Gavin stops him before he can move.

"No, no," he murmurs, "I don’t need a hospital. It’s just a sore stomach, I can handle it. I probably just ate something bad."

"No, Gavin. You have appendicitis. You have to go to the hospital, and I would really prefer to get you there before your appendix ruptures, okay?"

Gavin looks even more confused.

"Appendicitis? How could you possibly know that?"

Michael shakes his head and stands up, “I just do, okay? Now, we’re going to the emergency room.”

Gavin doesn’t fight against him this time, not even when Michael lifts him up. One arm wrapped around the boy’s back, and the other around his legs, hoisting him up near his chest. In the same manner that husbands would with their wives to carry them into their honeymoon suites.

Michael lightly ponders this just as he carries Gavin out of the small bathroom, and is then struck with a vision.

_"How would you feel about us having kids?" is the first thing he hears as he walks in through their front door._

_Michael raises an eyebrow at his husband, confused as to why he’d be waiting at the door for him to come home and why he would just blurt out that question before he even has his shoes taken off._

_"Are you going to pull out a white stick and tell me that you’re pregnant?"_

_"Michael," Gavin whines, "I’m being serious."_

_Instead of taking it seriously, like his husband wishes he would, he just smiles and continues. “So am I. I wouldn’t be able to handle a knocked up Gavin Free.”_

_Gavin glares at him, but Michael laughs and scoops him up into his arms. Lifting him up bridal style and connecting their lips before carrying him throughout the house. Luckily their room isn’t very far from the front door._

_"Well, then," he says, "Let’s go make a baby."_

_He gently kicks open the door to their bedroom, and then dumps his husband onto their bed. Gavin lets out a loud mixture of squeals and giggles when Michael crawls onto top of him and begins squeezing his sides and tickling him._

_"Michael, stop!" he cries out, his laughter showing that he isn’t actually annoyed, "I’ve been worrying all day about asking you and now you aren’t even taking it seriously!"_

_Michael stops, getting up so that he’s practically sitting on Gavin’s torso. They’re both still grinning even though all of the tickles have ceased. “I_ am _taking it seriously. We’ve talked about kids before, and it would be an honor to have one with you.”_

_Gavin looks hesitantly hopeful for a moment, “…Really?”_

_"Of course."_

When he finally snaps back out of it, Gavin is looking back up at him in confusion again.

"Michael?" he asks, "Are you okay?"

Michael just nods and continues with his goal to get Gavin to his car. He grits his teeth and tries his hardest to put any memory of the vision out of his head.

He can’t deal with this shit right now, he just wants to get Gavin to the hospital.

Him doing this isn’t furthering the idea that they’ll get together. He doesn’t want somebody to die when he could have prevented it. He may hate Gavin, but that doesn’t mean he wants the guy to suffer on his bathroom floor in pain and agony for the next few hours until Geoff finally comes home and finds him.

Gavin lets out a weak moan in his arms, reminding Michael once again that he is in actual pain right now.

It doesn’t take long to get him out of the makeshift house and into his parked car outside.

He considers laying him in the back, but then settles for sitting him in the front passenger seat and then reclining the seat all of the way back. It would be difficult to lay him down back there on his own without moving him too much.

Michael’s never had to deal with appendicitis before. He’s never had a friend or relative that had gone through it and didn’t learn about it in high school. Then again, it isn’t like he actually studied any of the information in his health books, only reading it through once at the end of the year so that he could refer towards it with visions during any of the tests he’d had to take.

But he does know a few things, which is probably the only thing keeping him from freaking out right now.

He doesn’t do well with sick people. Maybe he’s just a big softie and is too concerned and worried for his own good, but right now he just wants to get Gavin into the hands of somebody that actually knows how to deal with this stuff.

As soon as he passes Gavin off to a doctor, it’s going to be a huge weight off of his shoulders.

Maybe he should have told the guys before leaving the office, because then at least he could have some help, or he could have just avoided coming here at all. Then Geoff or somebody else could have had to deal with this, and Michael wouldn’t have had to deal with giving in and allowing himself to be close to Gavin.

That doesn’t matter now though. What matters is getting Gavin to a hospital. Then he can call Geoff and make him deal with all of this shit.

Because Michael is only worried about Gavin dying.

That’s right.

He just doesn’t want Gavin to die from something like appendicitis when he’s only twenty four years old.

If Michael’s hands tighten on his steering wheel throughout the drive to the hospital, it’s only because he keeps repeating these denials within his head and grows more and more frustrated when his own brain refuses to believe them.

*

It’s hours later that he finds himself alone in Gavin’s hospital room with him. Geoff and Griffon had only left moments ago, the three of them had stayed in the waiting room throughout the entire surgery.

The others from the company that had come were convinced to go home. Gavin would be annoyed if everybody had stopped working for the day just to wait in a hospital, then he would be angry that everybody is so worried about him when he only had a “dumb little surgery.” His words, not Michael’s.

Michael’s visions come more in handy when it comes to hospitals.

It took a lot of convincing to get Geoff and Griffon to leave, but they finally left on the agreement that Michael would call if he woke up.

They asked why he was so persistent on staying, but Michael just gave them some bullshit excuse about wanting to make sure he was okay. He was the one to find Gavin in pain on his bathroom floor and drive him to the hospital after all. He feels responsible for his well-being, and refuses to leave until he’s sure that Gavin’s alright.

So, maybe it isn’t such a bullshit excuse after all, but calling it that in his head allows him to detach himself from the sentiments.

Watching Gavin lay almost motionless in the hospital bed is odd.

Not weird or creepy, but it just leaves him with a strange feeling that makes him want to continue doing it.

It’s also leaving him unworried about his thoughts making any sense at all.

_Michael’s eyes open instantly, startled awake by the loud gasp beside him._

_His eyes still feel heavy and groggy, and his first thought consists of smacking his fiance and telling him to go the fuck back to sleep. A quick glance at the alarm clock tells him that it’s six in the morning. They still have quite a few more hours worth of sleep before they have to get up for the day._

_When he turns to Gavin, all the annoyance washes away and is replaced with concern._

_His fiance is sat up, breathing heavily and moving to get up out of the bed. Michael has to reach over and grab his arm, keeping him in place so that he doesn’t get up. He’s only leaving to avoid waking up Michael, unaware that the damage is already done._

_"Shh, shh," Michael soothes, pulling the man closer towards him as he sits up too, "You’re awake, you’re okay."_

_He tangles his fingers into Gavin’s hair, keeping his face pressed against his chest._

_The room is still dark and neither of them can really see one another clearly. The only thing providing light is the bright red numbers on the clock and the sliver of rising morning light that’s sneaking in through their curtains._

_Eventually Gavin’s breathing slows down to normal, being near Michael helps ground him and realize that it really was just a dream. Michael lets out a sigh of relief as he releases him from his hold._

_Being woken up by your own boyfriend’s panicked cries is never a good way to start the day._

_"Are you alright?" Michael asks him softly._

_Gavin nods, “Yeah, sorry.”_

_"It’s okay. Bad dream?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"What was it about?"_

_"Doesn’t matter, it was just awful and I don’t really want to talk about it," Gavin murmurs, pouting like a young child._

_Michael smiles slightly and presses a kiss to his forehead, “Well, you’re awake now, so there’s nothing to worry about.”_

_Gavin lets out a tiny breathy laugh, “Stop it, you make me sound like a baby.”_

_"Well, it’s true. We’re going to be married soon, so I’m stuck protecting you for the rest of my life."_

_"You make it sound so romantic."_

_"You know me, the living embodiment of devotion and passion. Fighting off bad nightmares is like my day job."_

_Gavin gives him a peck on the lips, “Thank you, I guess?”_

_"Damn right," Michael smiles, "Wanna go back to sleep?"_

_He lets out a sigh, “I don’t think I can.”_

_Michael almost wants to roll his eyes despite not actually being irked by this scene in the slightest._

_When he and Gavin first starting dating, he’d learned an odd fact about him. In order to fall asleep, Gavin_ has _to count down from one hundred in his head. If he doesn’t he’ll just lay awake all night, no matter how much he begs for sleep to overcome him._

_"Lie down," Michael instructs, situating himself so that Gavin can lie across his chest._

_Gavin raises an eyebrow in confusion, “I just told you that I can’t-“_

_"Yeah, yeah," he waves off, "And I’m going to help you. Now lie down and close your eyes."_

_He does as he’s told anyways, resting his head onto Michael’s chest and allowing the warmth of both the bed and his fiance to comfort him. Michael curls his fingers back into Gavin’s hair, moving them slowly in a soothing and relaxing motion that practically forces him to close his eyes._

_Michael shuts his eyes too, ignoring the sunlight that continues to spill into the room from the crack between their curtains, before he begins to murmur out the words._

_"One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven…"_

"Michael?"

The voice pulls his out of the vision and he blinks harshly to regain his normal sight back.

He looks down to see Gavin trying to pull himself up into a sitting position, but he does so with a wince on his face with every movement he makes. Michael rolls his eyes and puts a firm hand on his shoulder, keeping him down.

"Don’t get up, you’d had surgery a while ago. You’re only going to hurt yourself."

"How long ago?"

"I don’t know. Quite a few hours. This isn’t your first time waking up, but you seem to actually be awake this time," he explains, remembering Gavin spewing off things while high off of whatever drugs the hospital was giving him to dim the pain.

Geoff was laughing the entire time was filming him, saying that it would make a great RT Life. But, that’s something Gavin can protest to later, no need bringing it up now.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

"Alright, I suppose. Still feels like I’ve been run over by a tractor, but a lot better than I did before. When did you get here?" Gavin asks, reaching a hand up to rub his eyes.

"I’ve been here the entire time. I was the one that brought you to the hospital."

"Yeah, I remember that," he nods, "But why didn’t you leave afterwards?"

"I-" he starts off with confidence but stops when he realizes that he doesn’t know what he’s going to say. Gavin just stares at him expectantly, but Michael can tell from the dazed look in his eyes that he still might not remember this when he wakes up again later.

Maybe he’s having some kind of fucked up epiphany, but being in a hospital for so long does that to you.

Gavin isn’t going anywhere.

No matter how much Michael ignores him or hates him, Gavin is still going to be there. Working along side him, cracking stupid jokes, and being obnoxious just for the sake of it.

It’s clear that ignoring and hating him isn’t going to stop the visions. Life is still hell bent on being as much of a cunt as possible, so it isn’t going to stop insisting that they get married anytime soon.

Why continue acting this way toward Gavin when in the end it isn’t helping anything?

"Because I was worried about my friend," he finally says after a long moment of uninterrupted silence.

Gavin gives him an amusing slack-jawed expression, one that Michael can’t help but chuckle at.

"Don’t look so surprised, idiot," he mutters while gently ruffling Gavin’s hair with affection.

"Thought you hated me," is all Gavin is able to mumble out, his eyes fluttering closed. He attempts to fight against it, but it’s clear that he’s losing.

"I don’t," Michael says, and is about to add something after that but then decides against it. Instead he just says, "Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up."

"Good," Gavin says, but it’s hardly coherent.

The room goes silent after that, the only sound is Gavin’s breathing as he falls into a deeper and deeper sleep. Michael’s fingers are still curled through his hair, unwilling to let go anytime soon.

"Yeah," Michael whispers to himself, "I can handle friends."


	6. Chapter 6

Being friends with Gavin is easier.

It was a comfortable tier.

Michael has finally tore down those walls he’d put up to block Gavin out, and he finds himself actually enjoying his presence.

Gavin is actually a pretty funny guy.

His annoying antics during the Let’s Play’s have become more funny than obnoxious. He wants to laugh about it rather than beat the shit out of him.

He agrees to be on the podcast now, only declining so many times before because he knew that Gavin was a regular on there.

Now that’s he’s opened up to a friendship with Gavin, he has to admit that it was a good decision. They make a great team both in videos and out.

He asks Gavin to do a Rage Quit with him, and it ends up being one of the funniest that Michael’s ever put out. The commenters beg for more Michael and Gavin collaborations, and it’s hard to want to deny them of that.

They talk more in the videos. Michael doesn’t just mindlessly kill him and spew off insults every single time that he sees his in-game character anymore. He still does it sometimes, but only because it’s still really funny. They begin teaming up and become the duo of “Team Nice Dynamite.”

And they also started hanging out outside of videos. He’d agree to go out to lunch with Gavin and Ray, start playing video games with him for fun, and agree to go swimming with him while they get ridiculously drunk.

Things were good. Michael isn’t so tense anymore, not so on-edge. He’s able to relax and just enjoy time with his friends.

Life’s a lot easier when you aren’t hating somebody for something they have no control over.

The only downside was that the visions still didn’t stop. Not even after three months of just being friends with Gavin and not letting it hint towards anything more than that.

He might even have been able to stay sane if there were some consistency in them.

Usually it doesn’t matter much to him what order visions occur in, it’s almost like they have a mind of their own and just do whatever they want. But now it’s fucking with his head even more than usual because everything is so out of place.

In one vision, he and Gavin will be old and married, then the next they’ll just be dating, then the next they’ll have a fucking kid. It’s like they’re just all over the place and Michael is left to determine when they’re supposed to happen in relation to his life.

It’s annoying, but it isn’t like he’s not already used to feeling that way towards the visions now. He’s almost been cursing their existence every since he’d met Gavin.

And, speaking of Gavin, Michael is not very pleased with how low to resistance is towards the boy.

They’re beginning to act more like flirty high schoolers instead of the friends that Michael’s inwardly insisting that they are.

The visions are stronger than ever, even happening as soon as he wakes up in the morning. Much like  _this_  morning.

Without any kind of warning, seconds after opening his eyes to start the day, he’s pulled into one.

_The weight of Gavin’s legs are in Michael’s lap, but the rest of him is sprawled out across the couch. According to Gavin, he makes a good footrest while watching television, but right now the TV is muted._

_Gavin is nose deep into a book, and the title on it reads “Top 100 Baby Names: Male and Female!” The cover is decorated with multiple pink and blue baby related clip art. Like pacifiers, cribs, bottles, and rattles._

_They probably couldn’t have picked a cheesier book for this even if they tried._

_The cover would actually be cute (albeit cliche) if it weren’t for the fact that they’ve scribbled all over it. Numerous names have been written onto the cover in black sharpie, and then crossed out once they’ve decided they didn’t particularly like it as much anymore._

_They’ve been sitting here thinking over baby names for over two hours now, and Michael’s about to go insane._

_"I like Charlotte," Gavin suggests, flipping through the pages._

_Every so often he’ll make faces at the names he glances at. Sometimes it’s with disgust, others with approval. He’s rolled his eyes once or twice at the absurdity at some._

_"Not a fan. Makes me think of spiders."_

_"Because of Charlotte’s Web?"_

_"Yeah, something about spiders and spelling just gives me the creeps," he smiles down at Gavin, who just snickers before turning back to the book._

_"Okay, so not Charlotte. How about… Zoey?"_

_"One-oh-one?"_

_"Not Zoey either then."_

_Michael lets out an exasperated groan and lifts his hands from Gavin’s ankles to pull at his hair. “Why is this so difficult!?”_

_"Because it’s a baby, Michael. We have to pick a name that they’ll have to use for the rest of their life."  
_

_"Not really. You can change your name legally."_

_"True. Well, a name that they’ll be called until they’re sentient enough to decide whether they like the one given to them or choose their own."_

_"Boy names," Michael brings up, "We haven’t looked at many boy names yet."_

_"I like Liam."_

_"I’m more fond of Carter."_

_"What about Anthony?"_

_"James?"_

_"No, I don’t want to name our son after Ryan."_

_"Oh yeah, totally forgot that Ryan isn’t his first name. What about Lucas?"_

_"Peter is cute."_

_"How about Edward?"_

_"Like that bloke from Twilight?"_

_"Not Edward then. Noah?"_

_"Hm, I like Noah."_

_"Me too. Put that on the possibilities list."_

_"Okay," Gavin says, and scribbles the name onto the cover of the book, "So, now we’ve got a possible boy’s name."_

_"We’ve said that before but we’ve always ended up crossing them out."_

_"I like Noah though. Do_ you _want to cross it out?”_

_"Nah, let’s sit with it for a while."_

_"Okay. So, we’ve got Noah. Now we need a new possible girl name."_

_"Victoria?"_

_  
"I don’t really like that."_

_"I think it’s a nice."_

_Gavin squints at the book, as though venting out his disgust for the name into it, “I don’t like how it can get shortened down to Vicky.”_

_"You don’t like Vicky?"_

_"It rhymes with icky," he points out, "And sicky."_

_Michael sighs, “You pick one then.”_

_"I don’t know, there’s so many more possibilities with girl names."_

_"Name out the next few girl names that you see in that book."_

_"Rebecca, Julia, Madison, Jade, Hannah, Hailey, Clara, and Mila," Gavin lists._

_"You don’t like any of those?"_

_"No, I like all of them! That’s the problem! Girl names are so pretty and it’s hard to narrow it down."_

_"You hate every single one that I suggest to you!"_

_"Let’s not fight over this," Gavin says with a roll of his eyes, "I thought picking out baby names was supposed to be some cute and adorable married couple moment, not an argument."_

_"It wouldn’t be an argument if you weren’t such a twat," Michael mutters, but then continues in hopes that Gavin didn’t hear him. "What about Angela?"_

_  
"You_ know _I hate that name.”_

_Michael almost wants to punch him, “You’re being extremely difficult right now.”_

_"It’s a name!" Gavin sits up, "The most important thing a person can have! We can’t give her an ugly one! She’ll get bullied on the school playground!"_

_"You’re taking this too seriously."_

_"Fine, I have an idea!" he announces, and Michael can tell from the defiant look in his eyes that this is not going to be good. "How about we just call her nobs."_

_Michael isn’t sure whether he’s annoyed or exhausted. “No,” he buries his face in his hands, “That’s not what I meant. We are not naming her Nobs. I hate you_ so _much.”_

_"Nope," Gavin shakes his head, "Nobs Free. That’s her name."_

_"Nobs Free."_

_"Yes. I’m writing it on the book."_

_  
"You are not."_

_"I am so," he says, and pulls off the cap with his teeth._

_Michael grabs his hand and tries to pull the marker out of it before he can write the “name” down. Gavin lets out a loud squeal as he tries to escape his grasp._

_The simple process of them deciding on baby names goes from actually attempting to pick one out, to an argument, to a wrestling match, to a tickle fight, and then to a make-out session._

_The poor kid will probably never have a proper name._

Michael’s phone buzzes to alert him that he’d just received an email. He just wants to ignore it and bury himself deeper into his pillow, but he knows it would be futile because he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep now anyways.

It does take a few moments until he finally lifts his face from his warm pillow and reaches out to grab his cell-phone. The bright light causes him to flinch, and then he has to wait a few painful moments for his eyes to adjust before unlocking the device.

New email from Gavin Free:

Hey, anybody want to go to the movies tonight?

He raises a brow and notices that the email was also sent to seven other people. Barbara, Ray, Geoff, Griffon, Lindsay, Kerry, and Jack.

Mainly because he’s desperate to go back to sleep, he sends a response that simply says “Sure, I’m in. What’s playing?” After tapping send, he lays his phone onto his bedside table and lets his head collapse back onto his pillow.

But before he can fall asleep, he’s pulled into another vision.

_"Okay, so I have a confession to make," Gavin says, looking down at his plateful of food with shame._

_Michael raises an eyebrow and puts down his fork. They’re having date night at his apartment tonight, trying to start the tradition early in their relationship. Instead of going to to a fancy restaurant, they’ve decided to eat in and cook their own meal together._

_After a lot of arguments, fuss, and a minor food fight between make-out sessions in the kitchen, they’d finally gotten two plates of spaghetti out of it._

_"A confession?" Michael muses, "It’s only our sixth date, so what could you possible be confessing this early?"_

_Gavin shrugs, slight concern written across his features._

_"Is this something really serious?" he continues, "Should I be preparing myself for something you think is break-up worthy?"_

_His eyes go wide at that, “No! Definitely not break-up worthy, or at least, I hope not. I just kind of want to come clean about our first date.”_

_Michael squints, “Our first date? You mean the movies?”_

_"Yeah."_

_"That was months ago."_

_"I know, but the guilt has been eating away at me."_

_Michael wishes that this conversation would hurry up so that he could go back to eating away. “Is this something stupid?”_

_"Well, yeah, probably. Geoff made fun of me when I told him."_

_"Oh my god," he groans, unable to take the unneeded suspense any longer, "Just tell me already."_

_"Okay, well, you know that email I sent you and everybody else? The one asking if anybody wanted to go to the movies and you were the only one that wasn’t busy that night?"_

_"…Yeah?"_

_"And then after we’d started dating, we agreed that that was our first official date?"_

_"Get on with it."_

_"I might have planned the whole thing," he mumbles, clearly still slightly hesitant to talk about this._

_"What does that even mean?"_

_"It means that nobody was too busy to join us for the movie. They weren’t actually invited. I was just really lame and wanted to spend more one-on-one time with you because I liked you. So, I sent that message, and then immediately went and sent another message to the other’s saying ‘NOT YOU’ so that they wouldn’t come and we could hang out alone."_

_The room is quiet for a few moments. Gavin meeting Michael’s eyes every few moments and then looking away with embarrassment before he can even guess what his boyfriend is thinking._

_Then Michael laughs. He throws his head back, puts a hand on his stomach, and everything. He doesn’t care anymore about his food getting cold, he’s too busy trying to intake enough breath between his laughter so that he doesn’t pass out._

_The thought of Gavin emailing everybody an invitation to the movies, and then quickly sending a new email retracting that very invitation just so that he could slyly get a date is just too fucking funny for him to handle._

_Gavin crosses his arms and glares weakly. “Don’t laugh!”_

_Michael honestly can’t help it, he’s past the point where he wouldn’t be able to stop even if he wanted to. There are tears pricking the corners of his eyes as his amusement becomes uncontrollable and almost painful._

_"Oh my god," he pants, trying to catch his breath, "My stomach hurts."_

_"It’s not funny" Gavin insists, but even he’s smiling._

_"You’re such a fucking loser!" Michael says, still laughing between words, "I can’t believe… Oh my god, I can’t believe that you would do that. That doesn’t even make any sense, you idiot."_

_"It does too!"_

_"Why didn’t you just_ ask _me?”_

_He’s beginning to regain control over his laughter, but a few giggles still make their way through. He’s too curious about Gavin’s thought process behind this plan to just laugh himself silly over it anymore._

_"Because," his boyfriend cries, a grin forming across his own face as he begins to see the comedy in it as well, "Then you could have rejected me! You might have gotten suspicious that I was just asking you out on a date."_

_"But you were!"_

_"No, I wasn’t! It was kind of like a trail run that coincidentally ended up being our first date."_

_Michael shakes his head, wiping the remaining tears out of his eyes, “You are seriously something else, Gavin.”_

_"You have to admit, it was a good plan."_

_"It was not."_

_"You fell for it."_

_"Oh shucks. I watched a movie with you, can’t believe it. I’ve fallen right into your cunning trap," he mocks, only moments away from bursting out into laughter again._

_This entire confession is just so ridiculous. He was expecting Gavin to say something serious or concerning judging by how he was reacting beforehand._

_Gavin just shrugs and smirks in return. “We_ are _dating now. So, technically you did.”_

_"Shut up and eat your spaghetti," Michael snickers, "Or I’ll change my mind on whether this is break-up worthy or not."_

As soon as Michael’s back into his own bedroom and everything is back to normal, he wants to smack himself across the face. He’d just unknowingly agreed to go onto a date with Gavin.

Why couldn’t he have had that vision  _before_ he pressed send?

He can’t back out now. That would seem suspicious, plus Gavin’s probably already received the confirmation email and is dancing for joy.

Goddamn, when did his future seeing ability become so hell bent on fucking him over?

He feels so defeated. As though he’s the superhero finding out that the bad guy is about to win and there’s no way to save the city from mass destruction.

But Gavin isn’t a villain. He’s just a normal guy that wants to go on a date with a co-worker that he’s interested in. Michael can’t really blame him for that. They  _are_  meant to get married on day after all, so it isn’t really a shock that Gavin would begin showing signs of being interested in him.

There’s no way to prevent any of this shit from happening. It’s like he’s going to end up with Gavin no matter how hard he tries to prevent it.

Life sucks sometimes.

*

Even though he’s annoyed by it, Michael is still able to find amusement in the situation. When he comes into work the next day, Gavin begins talking to him immediately.

"Turns out everybody else is busy tonight, so it’s just you and me if you’re still up for it," he says, rotating slowly in his chair.

Michael hears Geoff let out a sarcastic “Ha!” under his breath from across the room, and it’s difficult not to do the same.

He has to admit though, it was a pretty good plan. If he wasn’t psychic he would have easily fallen for it and then laughed about it later once they’d actually gotten together.

There’s basically no downside to it on Gavin’s end, because he wasn’t asking for a date, he was just looking for some more quality time with him. Probably due to Michael’s agreement to their friendship. Wanting to hang out with him in a group wouldn’t do much to bring them closer together, even as friends. And then at the end, if he determines that Michael isn’t into him in a dating sense, then he still gets a closer friendship with him anyways.

He smirks, “Yeah, sure. What’s playing?”

*

It ends up going well. Gavin and he go to see a movie together, and nothing of supreme interest happens.

They drive there together, cracking dumb jokes along the way and listening to the radio on a low volume setting.

The movie is alright. Michael is almost surprised that Gavin doesn’t pick out a horror movie, isn’t that usually the best choice for somebody that you’re testing the waters with? Then you get to cuddle into them with some shit excuse that the movie is scaring you.

When Michael suggests a horror movie, Gavin waves it off and says that he wouldn’t be able to stomach seeing all of that blood. Regardless of how cheesy and fake it looks.

So they settle with a sub-par action movie, but when it ends, Gavin’s talking about it with excitement.

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah, it was alright."

"I thought it was great."

"Will it be another one of those movies that you buy on blu-ray and then never watch?" he asks with a smile. He knows Gavin too well at this point.

The boy shrugs, “Probably. I did finally get to watch that box set of Game of Thrones while recovering from the hospital trip. Griffon was very adamant on me not moving around very much and practically forced me to stay on the couch with her and watch Game of Thrones.”

"Poor thing, I can’t imagine being stuck with you watching television all day."

"Michael!" he squeals with laughter, "When you said poor thing I thought you were referring to me."

"Oh please, you were fine. I recall getting quite a few number of texts from you complaining that you felt fine and wanted to come back to work."

"I did feel fine!"

"You could barely even walk sometimes."

"You would be trying to get back to work too if you had nothing to do for four weeks but watch TV and movies."

"You seemed pretty content to watch  _this_  movie,” Michael points out, and laughs when Gavin launches back into his excitement about the flick.

"It had really good slow motion scenes in it," he tries to defend.

"Oh yeah," Michael smirks, "Forgot that you were the slow mo king for a second."

The smile drops off of his face when he gets a vision.

_Gavin’s been acting odd lately._

_And not like usual Gavin odd, but just plain odd._

_It’s freaking Michael out a little bit. A lot more than it probably should._

_He’s never been nervous around his boyfriend before, not even during the early stages of their relationship, but now he feels like he’s he’s sweating bullets._

_It had started about a week ago, when Gavin announced that he had booked them a table at one of the nicest restaurants in town. They’ve been together for over three years now, he knows that Gavin would never put that amount of effort into something without it being a requirement._

_His idea of a date night is staying in and playing Halo while getting just drunk enough that they’d still be able to have enjoyable sex from it._

_Michael checked every single calender in the house, thought back to every important date or milestone in their relationship thus far, but comes up empty handed. It isn’t a birthday or anniversary. It isn’t a day that holds any significant value at all._

_Something fishy was going on._

_He’d ignored Michael all throughout the week, brushing off any conversation about it with a weak excuse. It made him feel nervous, to be honest. Gavin’s never been so withdrawn from him before, and it makes him fear that he’s done something wrong._

_"I have to talk to you," is the first thing that Gavin says after they’ve ordered their meals._

_Michael stares at him with suspicion, “What about?”_

_Gavin avoids contact with his eyes, looking everywhere other than at his boyfriend sitting in front of him. “I’ve been thinking a lot…” he says slowly, “About our relationship.”_

_Then Michael narrows his eyes, “Are you fucking breaking up with me? In the middle of a fancy ass restaurant? I’ve known you to do some pretty shitty things, Gavin, but this takes the goddamn cake.”_

_His boyfriend’s eyes widen a little, and Michael doesn’t even hear him when he stutters out a weak “N-No-“_

_"I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s a good idea. Since we’re in public I can’t yell at you and make a big scene over how much of an asshole you are. But, that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. I oughta kick your ass in the parking lot as soon as we leave here."_

_Realizing that he isn’t going to get a word in when Michael is this worked up, Gavin quietly reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box. It’s a dark blue color and when Gavin opens it, it reveals the simple but satisfactory ring nestled snugly into the fabric._

_He holds it out across the table, his hands shaking the tiniest bit._

_Even though Gavin looks painfully worried and nervous just sitting there, he’s still able to murmur out a quiet, “I didn’t bring you here to dump you, Michael.”_

_Michael doesn’t even think about responding to his question. Instead he laughs with relief. Joy and happiness filling and replacing every ounce of him that was filled by anger only moment ago. Even Gavin cracks a smile through his worried exterior._

_Holy shit. Gavin isn’t breaking up with him at all._

_Quite the opposite really. He’s fucking purposing._

_"You didn’t?" he asks with a breathy laugh, trying to cover up the fact that he’s only moments away from tearing up._

_"Of course not!" Gavin says with more confidence, relief pooling in his own eyes from Michael not yelling at him anymore, "You’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had."_

_"I’m the only boyfriend you’ve ever had."_

_"That’s a one hundred percent boyfriend success rate on my part!"_

_Michael tries to discreetly wipe the tear in his eyes, but Gavin catches it and giggles. Instead of answering or even taking the box; he stands up, reaches across the table, grabs Gavin by the collar, and lifts him out of his own. Forcing him up to meet his lips in a firm kiss._

_When they finally pull away, Michael is still grasping on Gavin’s shirt. Their faces close, but not close enough that he isn’t able to see the grin on his boyfriend’s face._

_They must look so fucking ridiculous to everybody else in the restaurant right now, but neither can actually bring themselves to care._

_"You still haven’t said yes yet," Gavin points out._

_Michael lets out a laugh, his voice almost inaudible as he murmurs the word, “Yes.”_

_You reach a certain point in dating somebody where you think to yourself, ‘yeah, if you proposed to me right now, I’d probably do that whole crying uncontrollable while fanning my face thing before saying yes.’_

_It’s safe to say that Michael and Gavin have reached that point a while ago._

_Apparently, we-just-got-engaged sex is awesome._

Having visions while driving is never ideal, but he’s come to realize that regardless of how long the vision feels to him, they only seem to last a mere three or four seconds in real life. So while he’s stuck watching he and Gavin lazily agreeing to sex, no time is passing in the real world, and they aren’t in any danger of getting into an accident.

Back when he was still a teenager getting his driver’s license, it was a huge fear of his that he would get into a wreck because of his visions. He’d actually ended up putting off getting a permit for a whole two years.

"Do you think you’ll buy it when it comes out on DVD?" Gavin asks, oblivious to the fact that Michael’s just had a vision.

"Nah," he waves off, blinking a few times to bring him back to reality, "I don’t jizz over slow motion cinematography like you do. If I want to see it again I’ll either watch it online or borrow your unused copy of it."

"What makes you think I’d be so eager to lend out my things to you?"

"I’d charm you into it," he mocks, looking away from the road for a brief moment to bat his eyelashes at him.

Gavin laughs loudly, “You  _are_  rather charming.”

Michael chuckles and shakes his head slightly, “Indeed I am.”


	7. Chapter 7

Gavin asks him to hang out one-on-one more often after their friendship begins, and Michael isn’t so reluctant to agree anymore.

Most common is during lunch at work. When Gavin found out that Michael’s apartment had a swimming pool, he’d begged them to have something called “lunchtime swimmy bevs.” Which turned out to involve drinking alcohol while swimming.

They discussed it on a podcast, and laughed when Gus complained about not being invited. Michael told him that anyone could come if they wanted, Gavin’s expression makes him realize that maybe it is more of just a private thing for the two of them.

So, nobody ever ends up joining them for lunchtime swimmy bevs. He and Gavin continue to do more ridiculous things together like that. Swimming, seeing more movies, going out to bars, and just hanging out at one another’s places and playing video games.

It almost reminds him of he and Lindsay’s friendship, but with a lot more playful flirting and banter.

So, he’s gotten to a point of hanging out with Gavin where they’re able to make jokes about being together or finding one another attractive. Kind of like his friendship with Ray.

He and Gavin are just slipping so easily into a friendship that’s just like every other one that Michael has, but for some reason it just feels stronger to him.

Whenever they make jokes or playful insults at one another, it feels more and more like the ones that he makes in his visions.

He’s unknowingly letting down the barriers that he’d been so desperate to put up.

He’ll find himself sitting closer to Gavin, not even realizing when they’re touching or surpassing what he used to claim a comfort zone.

They’re in more videos together. Becoming the lab rats in immersion, teaming up as TND more often, doing Lets Plays with just the two of them, and even talking about doing a bi-weekly show together.

The fans adore them. They think that they are hilarious, and a lot of the Tumblr fan base is even pointing out how cute of a couple they would be. Of course, this leads to everybody mocking or playfully teasing the two.

Gavin doesn’t seem to mind though, usually brushing it off with a chuckle and blush on his face to match it.

It’s pissing Michael off. Not the fan stuff, but the fact that he’s becoming so accustomed to Gavin and everything surrounding him.

He’s able to answer questions about Gavin that aren’t even directed towards him, like when Burnie had asked what Gavin’s favorite game was for something immersion related. And when Kara had gotten new shoes for them both, he’d known to go deal with the problem immediately because otherwise Gavin would turn into a fussy baby.

He hates that he’s gotten so close to the boy when he’d sworn to himself that he wouldn’t do that. Giving in and becoming friends was his first mistake, and he’s been beating himself up for it ever since.

Michael’s stubborn, and it isn’t very often that he admits that he needs help, so it takes a while for him to finally give up and go to Lindsay for advice.

"You want my opinion?" She asks, waiting for his nod of confirmation. "Okay, here it is. You’re a fucking idiot."

"Harsh," he mutters.

"Well, you asked for it," she smirks, "Quite frankly, I think that  _you’re_ the harsh one here.”

"Me? How?"

"Because you’re being an asshole to Gavin."

"No, I’m not! We’re friends, we do almost everything together. How is that being an asshole?"

"That makes it even worse! Listen, Michael," she says, getting up from her seat at her kitchen table to go check on the soup she’s cooking, "You’re being unfair."

Lindsay picks up the salt shaker from the counter, but Michael stops her. “Don’t add any salt to that.”

She raises an eyebrow but put its back onto the counter, already having fallen into the habit of blindly following Michael’s ‘vision instructions’ without any questions. He hasn’t been wrong yet, so why should she start doubting him now.

"And how am I being unfair?" He continues. His visions preventing minor mishaps are not out of the ordinary at this point.

She places a firm hand on her hip and narrows her eyes at him, and that’s when Michael knows that she’s probably going to win this argument.

"You two are happily in love and married in the future, and you, for some godforsaken reason, are choosing to not let that happen all because you’re a selfish asshole that is scared of commitment."

"I’m not scared of commitment."

"Then what is it?"

He doesn’t have an answer to that, and is forced to stay quiet as she gives him an ‘I told you so’ look.

"Exactly. You don’t have a reason, idiot."

"I came to you for help. Not to be called an asshole and an idiot," he mutters, scratching the back of his neck with discomfort.

"Sorry I couldn’t be more help," she says with mocking sarcasm as she rolls her eyes, "For a psychic, you sure are stupid about the future."

"What do  _you_  suggest that I do then?”

"I think you should tell him."

"Who? Gavin?"

"Yeah, then you two can talk it over and plan where to go from there. Communication is important, Michael. You’re dealing with all of this shit alone when all you had to do was talk to Gavin a bit and sort through it with the help of somebody else."

"But I’d only just told  _you_  a few months ago. How do I know that I can trust him with such a big secret?”

She throws her head back with defeat and exasperation, “You’re going to marry the dude. He’s going to see your dick one day, as I’m sure you’ve already seen his many a times.”

That makes Michael even more uncomfortable. He never should have let it slip to Lindsay that he’d seen far too many visions of he and Gavin in… Intimate scenarios.

"Fine. You win," he mutters, "I’ll deal with this like a mature adult that talks through their problems and doesn’t whine about it to their best friend all day."

Her smug smirk is all the response he needs.

*

If Michael was a professional at anything, it was procrastinating. He’d put off talking to Gavin about it for as long as he possibly can.

Which is so stupid, because he could so easily just look into the future to see if the conversation will turn out badly or not. He doesn’t want to do that though, his visions are really wasn’t causing him all of this drama in the first place. And it isn’t like they’re stopping anytime soon.

He gets to see more and more of he and Gavin’s life together as time progresses. The visions will happen at the most random times. Not that they’ve been organized before, they’ve always been this scattered and random, but for some reason it’s pissing him off even more. It feels like they’re berating him for procrastinating telling Gavin the truth.

Since when did his visions have a personality, and since when have they choose Lindsay’s side of this argument over his?

One moment he’ll just be minding his own business, taking a shower and then: Bam. Fucking vision.

_Lazy mornings are a lot more fun when you have an equally lazy partner to cuddle with. He and Gavin are laying in a bed, both looking disinterested in the thought of getting up and actually starting the day._

_It’s just one of those days where you don’t really want to do much of anything. You just want to lay in bed and groan about how groggy you feel for no reason._

_Gavin’s face is rested against Michael’s shoulder, his arms reached up to hold himself against his boyfriend’s chest. Michael has his own limbs wrapped around his boyfriend’s entire form._

_"Your morning breath is awful," Gavin mumbles, not even bothering to lift his head so that his words can come out clearly._

_"Yours is too."_

_"We look_ and  _smell disgusting in the mornings.”_

_"Yep."_

_Silence passes over them for a few moments, and both lay there quietly considering the words._

_"Wanna have disgusting morning sex?" Gavin suggests casually._

_"Yep."_

But it doesn’t just end there.

He’ll be editing a new Rage Quit video in the office, his mind as far away from Gavin Free and their future together as possible when suddenly a vision.

Or he’ll be in the middle of a conversation with somebody. No matter how casual or serious and work related it is, he’ll be torn away from it and struck with a vision.

It’s getting fucking ridiculous.

But something, deep in the back of his brain, is telling him that once he tells Gavin, then everything is going to work out and his visions will begin to calm down a little.

He hopes for his sanity’s sake that it’s true.

*

He waits an entire week.

He actually would have waited longer if it weren’t for the fact that he feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t get all of this off of his chest sooner or later.

It’s when he and Gavin are hanging out at his apartment with a couple of drinks, much like they usually do on the weekends.

Probably a little too close than is regarded as normal for friends, but it doesn’t bother either of them. The only reason it’s annoying Michael is because he keeps being thrown into visions when he’d rather just focus on their game and how to bring up this impending conversation to Gavin.

Luckily, it’s easy, because Gavin is being ridiculous and squirmy as usual. It isn’t out of the ordinary for him to drop things or spill them by accident, so when he has a vision of his floor becoming a mess of broken glass and beer, he decides that this is probably the easiest way to go about bringing the subject up.

Michael reaches out to grab his beer bottle from falling to the floor, before it even begins it’s descent. He catches it flawlessly, and then lifts it back up to hand back to Gavin.

Gavin makes an impressed face, “Good catch.”

"Yeah," he nods, taking a deep breath before hesitantly continuing. "I knew that it was going to fall."

"I’m not  _that_  clumsy,” Gavin insists, but his smile shows that he knows otherwise.

"Well, yes you are, but that’s not why I knew."

Gavin raises an eyebrow at him, but waits patiently for him to continue speaking.

Michael still feels weird about telling people. It’s odd to have that moment of everything being the same, right before you know that saying one thing is going to change it all.

"It’s because I’m psychic." he says, blunt and to the point, much like how he was when he’d told Lindsay.

He’s only ever told one person before, so he still doesn’t know the ropes on how to go about telling people. And judging by his tone and hesitancy, he still doesn’t consider himself to be an expert on spilling the truth about it.

Outright blurting it out to somebody is the only way he knows how to do it at this point. He doesn’t know how to wean somebody into it or slowly break it down for them. Being stressed out and worried over their reaction makes it even harder for him to think it through logically, so the only ideal way to tell the truth is to quickly get it over with as fast as possible. Kind of like ripping off a band-aid.

Luckily, the two now in the know are his close friends, so telling them in this way would probably be easier than any other. It definitely seemed to work out well in Lindsay’s case.

But that still doesn’t mean Gavin will take it well.

He blinks a few times, tilting his head back as though this information is throwing him off and he doesn’t understand how to process it.

"Psychic?"

"Yeah."

"What does…" he trails off and gives a shake of his head out of confusion, "How am I even supposed to react to that? I don’t understand the joke."

"No joking. I’m being completely serious."

Gavin face drops with amused disbelief, “You expect me to believe that you can see into the future?”

"Yes."

Being straight and to the point had worked well with Lindsay, but it might just be because she’s a lot more understanding when it comes to weird things like this.

Instead Gavin just smirks, still assuming that this is a joke that’s being dragged out. “Oh yeah? How long do I live until?”

Michael’s quiet for a few seconds until he shakes his head. There isn’t a hint of amusement on his own face, just the tiniest amount of uncomfortable fear as his face goes a little paler at the thought.

"I don’t want to know that."

Seeing the serious expression on his face seems to sober Gavin up a little though, and the smile almost completely drops off of his face. That one sentence changes him from playfully sarcastic to skeptical.

"You’d be able to if you wanted though?"

"Yeah," Michael nods, "If I’m there with you when it happens, and I don’t choose to interfere in a major way before looking into the future, then I’d be able to see right now how you die."

His voice cracks at the end of it, this entire thought process is too depressed and eye opening for him to fully comprehend. He doesn’t want to think about Gavin dying.

He wouldn’t  _want_  to risk looking into the future and seeing the look on his own face as he realizes that his husband is dead and that he’s all alone. It’s terrifying to think about, even when they’re both standing here young and healthy with no threats of danger or death itself.

"So, if you’re psychic…" Gavin begins slowly, and Michael almost wishes that he could read minds instead so that he could know exactly what the boy is thinking at the moment. "Then why aren’t you a millionaire? Can’t you just win the lottery by looking into the future and seeing what the winning numbers are?"

He brings up a good point.

"Yeah, but what’s the point in doing it now? I’ve got a good job that I enjoy and I’m not low on funds. I’ll save the lottery winning for when I have no other choice. Why take away money that somebody who needs it could have won when I’m already well off enough."

Gavin grimaces, “Of all people to get psychic abilities it would be a boring person like you that wouldn’t put it to good use.”

Although it’s supposed to be a serious conversation, Michael can’t help but smile. “I can see into the future, I’ve told you, now what do I have to do to make you believe it?”

"When was the last time you’ve used it to your advantage?"

Michael’s almost taken aback by the question. He’d been expecting petty parlor trick requests like Lindsay had asked for.

"Uh, when we’d went to the fair last week and played that game, I won that stuffed animal for you by looking into the future and finding out what would be the easiest way to win."

Gavin’s mouth drops open in shock, “You cheated to win!?”

"You were just annoyed that I hadn’t cheated to win the fucking lottery. Why are you so offended by my winning an already rigged carnival game?"

"Because then that means that Mr. Cuddles the bear is a lie," he pouts.

Michael smirks. He hadn’t expected Gavin to react like this. Finding out that your friend is psychic shouldn’t be something that you so easily accept and practically shrug off.

The guy’s only concern is that he’s manipulated a child’s game to win him a cheaply made teddy bear.

Once their conversation ends, he just challenges him to another Halo match and demands that they get more bevs. Only bringing up the psychic thing when he accuses Michael of cheating.

Such a serious conversation that Michael was putting off for a week was so easily skimmed over that it feels weird. If he thought convincing Lindsay was easy, convincing Gavin was like a walk in the park.

He’s never had somebody so blindly trust him before.

But it is a relief that Gavin almost immediately believed him and didn’t freak out. He’d been expecting a much bigger ordeal than this. Maybe he’s better at telling people about it than he’d thought.

He doesn’t want to tell him about the marriage thing. At least, not yet. The relief of another person knowing has kept him from wanting to indulge anymore secrets for now. Although he’s taking this news extremely well, Michael isn’t going to risk dropping another bomb on him.

Finding out your friend is psychic is one thing. Finding out you’re going to be marrying him is another.


	8. Chapter 8

Gavin Free is not a creature of habit.

He doesn’t have a set way of doing things or a routine that he follows. His entire life is just taking it day by day, and not concerning himself with the consequences of tomorrow.

This is what makes he and Michael such opposites of one another.

Michael’s spent the majority of his life planning out every decision to match up with every beneficial vision that he’s had.

Telling Gavin about his psychic abilities has had it’s advantages and disadvantages.

Since they’d started hanging out more and became close friends, the weight of having such a huge secret feels like it’s been lifted off his chest. He’s only told two people so far, but he can’t deny the feeling of satisfaction and relief it brings afterward.

There was no need to come up with excuses for why he’d suddenly get that blank look in his eyes while having a vision. Of course, this was also bad because Gavin would insist on knowing what the vision was about.

Michael wasn’t particularly fond of telling him the truth.

But since letting Gavin in on the secret, he’s been called upon for ‘psychic services’ by the boy on multiple occasions. Usually they’re together when it happens, but sometimes Michael will get a phone call in the middle of the night. Gavin asking some stupid question about what he should do as if the decision will really change or effect anything important.

Getting help from Michael was no longer like getting help from anybody else. He isn’t a high schooler giving out feeble advice or words of caution. Michael’s visions are solid and (as far as Gavin is concerned) always accurate unless forced otherwise.

At first Michael didn’t mind, he’d laugh off Gavin’s never ending stream of questions. Rolling his eyes when the boy would ask him if he should get pizza or Chinese food tonight. Because really? How much could your future be affected by your takeout decision on a Friday night?

He should have ended it as soon as he started though, because the amount of times it happened had only grown as time went on.

Even though the boy might have believed him about being psychic almost immediately, he’d still gotten many opportunities to prove it to him. Judging by the reactions he would get, it’s clear that he’s slowly diminishing any doubt that Gavin’s held towards the subject.

Predicting things like who’s computer is going to break down during the day or who’s going to get into an argument on the podcast is child’s play. Even Gavin could predict something like that.

The one’s that  _really_  make Gavin’s eyes widen with realization and excitement are when he’s halfway through something like writing a text message and Michael already knows what it is before he hits send. Or telling Gavin to go answer his phone five seconds before it even rings.

Gavin always giggles childishly and crinkles his nose with amusement towards it.

It’s like he’s doing magic tricks on a toddler.

Once certain about his friend’s abilities and his trust in them, it didn’t take long for him to begin taking advantage of it.

Soon Gavin would ask assistance for everything. So often that Michael would wonder how he’d ever made decisions on his own before.

Just when he’d think it was slowing down a little, Gavin would be calling for help again.

Of course, there are downsides to everything, because Gavin knowing has already resulting in him begging for help with almost everything.

"Can you take me shopping?"

"Why?"

"Because I need groceries."

"Doesn’t Geoff usually take you shopping?"

"Nah, usually I just ask the closest person with a car."

"And that happens to be me?"

"Yes. Please, Michael? It’ll only be a few moments. I just needs a few things to restock my fridge. Plus, you’ll be able to tell me which foods spoil quicker because you’re psychic."

Michael glares at him. Gavin pouts in return, but it’s easy to see the smile he’s trying to hide.

"Please? Do you  _want_  me to waste money by buying food that’s going to spoil?”

"You can’t just look at the expiration dates?"

"You’re much more trustworthy than an expiration date."

Michael considers saying no, but this situation is very similar to the time Gavin was begging to go to Jersey Mikes, and that had only resulted in an unwanted vision before caving. It’s easier to just accept Gavin’s annoying terms now instead of being forced to go through another vision again.

"Fine. I’ll take you shopping."

*

"Why am  _I_  always the one dragging your sorry ass around town?”

"Because you have a car."

"I hardly even use it. Since becoming friends with you, this is the most action it’s seen in months."

"Why don’t you drive more often?"

"Because I like to walk places. I don’t live very far from the office, and when I need to go somewhere it’s usually with other people, so they give me a ride. Why can’t you be like that?"

"You’re giving me a ride right now, aren’t you? Technically, I’m doing the same thing you do."

"I don’t beg for rides like you. I just accept them when they’re graciously offered to me."

"But that’s boring. I work for my rides."

"If you were really working for your rides, you would get a license."

Gavin scoffs and waves his hand, “Effort.”

Michael doesn’t even bother pointing out that Gavin only just admitted to putting effort into bumming rides off of people. That boy is just one big walking, talking contradiction.

They slowly pull up to a red light, only moments before a new song starts on the radio.

Gavin gasps, “I like this song!” He reaches quickly to turn the volume up, making the music much louder than Michael would have preferred. He recognized the song, and is quite fond of it himself, but hell if he’d let Gavin know that.

He’d about to turn it down himself, but then Gavin starts singing along to it while dancing almost wildly in the front passenger seat.

"Fucking stop," he says, trying to hold back his smile, "People in the other cars are staring at you like an idiot."

"Who cares? Come on, sing with me! It’s fun!"

“ _I_  care, I’d rather not look like a complete moron at a stop light.”

Gavin rolls his eyes dramatically. “Come on, you’ll never see these people again. And even if you do, they won’t remember you. Just because your psychic doesn’t mean you can’t live in the moment,” he points out, once again pulling the psychic card before going back to dancing and singing.

_"Papa!" a tiny voice cries and echoes throughout the house, "You aren’t doing it right!"_

_Michael chuckles to himself, he’d only just left the bathroom moments and it isn’t surprising that Gavin’s already managed to fuck up something. He realized part way through brushing his teeth and combing his daughter’s hard, that the television out in the living room was on. He gave his husband the hair brush before leaving with his tooth brush still sticking out of his mouth._

_Night is hectic sometimes._

_"Just hold still," Gavin accented words ring out, "I’m doing the best that I can."_

_"But it isn’t good enough!" she whines, a bratty tone to her voice. She’s almost seven now, and they’re trying to get her out of this phase as quickly as possible, even though she’s a darling almost all of the time. "My hair needs to be in_ two  _ponytails for bed.”_

_Michael turns off the television, figuring that he should try to get back and save his husband and daughter from one another as quickly as possible. But his phone catches his eye, just laying innocently on the corner of the coffee table._

_He smirks as an idea comes to mind._

_When he nears the bathroom, he tries to be as quiet and unsuspecting as he can. Tiptoeing down the hallway and drawing closer to the light coming from the open door. He presses play on his phone before jumping out and singing along to the lyrics._

_"Doctor, doctor, give me the news. I’ve got a bad case of loving you!" he sings at the top of his lungs, even louder than the actual song itself._

_Both his husband and daughter jump in surprise at the volume, but grin once catching on to the fact that it’s just another of Michael’s childish antics._

_He grabs Gavin’s hand and yanks it away from their daughter’s hair, who’s ponytails are currently lopsided on opposite sides of her head. He’s never been the best at hair. Michael pulls him into a mock waltz around the small bathroom, lifting and lowering their joined hands to the beat as he sings along loudly._

_Their little girl has stood atop the counter she was previously sitting crossed legged. She watches them with giggles as she sings along to the song, hopping in place. She’s wearing her newest night dress that her Aunt Lindsay had only bought her for her birthday, and the frilly bottom bounces along with her jumping._

_They look ridiculous. Even Michael is only wearing a pair of boxer shorts and a white tank top, while Gavin in only wearing a pair of pajama bottoms. It adds to the ‘it’s getting very late and we’re all overdue for some sleep’ look that they have going on. And if someone were to witness the current scene, they’d think that this family is just a little too silly and carefree._

_Michael can’t bring himself to care at this point. Making his husband and daughter laugh this late at night, while they were arguing over something as foolish as hair and ponytails, is worth it._

He laughs at the vision, and finally gives in just in time to catch the last chorus.

For the record, the other people in the cars surrounding him thought that they were idiots.

*

The phone ringing is what wakes Michael up, and he doesn’t even have to look at the screen to know that it’s Gavin. He considers ignoring it in favor of going back to sleep, but he knows it will just result in his home-phone being dialed and that’s a lot harder to sleep through.

"What the fuck do you want now? It’s three in the morning. We have work tomorrow," he growls. Perhaps he should have answered with a simple hello, because if it isn’t Gavin, then he’d just given the called a very grumpy greeting.

"Michael!" Gavin cries, as though he was expecting somebody else, "I need your help."

Michael leans back on his pillow, knowing that he isn’t going to be getting back to sleep anytime soon. “Don’t you always? You know, I didn’t think telling your about this whole psychic thing would lead to you taking advantage of me.”

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Hush it, Houdini."

"Houdini wasn’t psychic. He was a magician."

"Same thing."

"It’s not th- What do you need to know? Is your life in danger? A gun being held to your head right this moment? Have you been kidnapped?" Michael guesses sarcastically.

"I’m playing a video game."

"I was close."

"I need you to help me make a decision in it."

"What game is it?"

"The Walking Dead."

"I thought you hated that show."

"I do, the game is alright though. Now help me," Gavin whines.

"Isn’t that game about making your  _own_  decisions?”

"Yes, but some of them are difficult and I’m having a hard time making a choice."

"I’m not helping you with that. You can’t come crying to me every time that you can’t make up your mind. I’m trying to sleep, I don’t have time for your video game problems."

"You’re such a party pooper."

"Oh, sorry that I’m not letting you cheat your way through a video game by using my visions to dictate every possible outcome," he rolls his eyes.

"Isn’t that what you’re doing with life though?"

Well, he isn’t wrong.

"Fair. But I wouldn’t do that with a video game, because then what’s the point of even playing it at all?"

"You just suck at the fun out of everything, don’t ya’?"

"Pretty sure  _you_  just called me to suck the fun out of the game you’re playing.”

"So you aren’t going to help me?"

"Nope, sorry. No psychic assistance today."

"I bet Houdini would have helped me."

"I’m sure he would have. Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Yes. You should be well rested for the movies tomorrow."

"Movies? What movies?"

"I want to hang out tomorrow, so we’re going to the movie theater."

"You didn’t tell me about this."

"I shouldn’t have to. You’re psychic."

"And I’m regretting telling you more and more everyday. What’s playing?"

"I don’t know. I figured you could tell me."

"Me being psychic is not an excuse for you to be more lazy."

"What’s the point in having a friend that can see the future if you can’t exploit it for your own personal gain?"

Michael smirks, “ _Really_  starting to regret it now.”

There’s some shuffling on Gavin’s side, before a whine of disappointment, “Since you’re no help, I’ve pulled up the list on my phone. Turns out, bugger all is playing.”

"Shitty."  
  
"We could go see Neighbors."

"Eh," Michael shrugs, "Zac Efron only gets shirtless in it like three times."

"Rip off," Gavin mutters, easily crossing that off of his mental ‘movie possibilities’ check-list. "How about we just catch the early showing of that new horror movie that’s playing?"

"I thought you hated scary movies?"

"I do, but I’m willing to suffer through it to watch a movie with my boy."

"My hero," Michael snickers.

"Then after the movies over, we can go out for some bevs."

"Sounds good. Now can I go back to sleep?" He throws in a yawn for exaggerated effect. If it weren’t for his eyes threatening to droop closed, he wouldn’t have minded staying up a little later to talk. Something about his voice is comforting in an odd, inexplicable way.

Gavin giggles, “Yes, you can. Sweet dreams, Michael.”

“‘Night, moron.”

Michael can’t help but shake his head and chuckle to himself with amusement as he ends the call and rests of phone onto his bedside table.

He unknowingly falls back asleep with a smile on his face.


	9. Chapter 9

Today was the official six month anniversary of Gavin’s first day at Rooster Teeth.

Michael wouldn’t have even known if it weren’t for the hundreds of tweets being sent to the RT Twitter account and Burnie announcing it to everybody at the beginning of the day. He seems to still be patting himself on the back for getting Gavin over here in the first place.

Despite it just being a stupid anniversary of Gavin’s time in this company, it makes Michael think back a little on how much things have changed in only six months.

He wouldn’t even acknowledge Gavin for the longest time, and would only tolerate his presence for the sake of Achievement Hunter videos. And now Gavin knows about his secret, they hang out almost every single day, and he helps him with stupid things like grocery shopping.

Michael didn’t even realize how close he’d gotten to Gavin within that time frame. What happened to hating the guy and refusing to even look at him? It had only taken a few months and suddenly they were acting more buddy-buddy than Michael is with anybody.

He’d even find himself cancelling plans with Lindsay in order to do something stupid with Gavin. He attempted to justify it in his head by telling himself that he was just trying to make up for the time lost when he was still refusing friendship. But it was quite clear to everyone around them that the two were acting a little more than friendly.

Maybe it was dumb, but it seemed like everybody around them was noticing it except for Michael and Gavin themselves.

Sometimes, in relationships, things happen so quickly that you don’t even realize that it’s happening. One moment you’re meeting one another for the first time, then you blink and suddenly you’re getting married.

Well, maybe that’s a little more literal in Michael’s case, but that’s not the point. The point is that even though Michael would still try to deny anything that could hint them towards anything more than friendship, they still ended up being more than that without realizing.

It was first brought to Michael’s attention during a boring day at the office.

"So, are you and Gav going out tonight?" Ray asks while swirling around nonchalantly in his desk chair. It’s something he always does while waiting for a video game loading screen.

"Yeah, heading to the movies to see that new ghost movie or whatever." Michael doesn’t even bother looking away from his screen, too focused on editing the newest Full Play.

"Really? That’s not very romantic," He says the word almost mockingly, with just a hint of actual confusion, "I expected-"

Michael cuts him off, finally ignoring his computer screen in favor of giving his friend an incredulous look, “Romantic? What the fuck does that mean?”

Ray rolls his eyes, “I may not know much about that coupley bullshit, but I know that a simple date to the movies isn’t particularly a romantic one. You two aren’t middle schoolers.”

Usually Ray admitting that he doesn’t know much about ‘coupley bullshit’ would result in teasing and bad jokes from Michael. Reminding him of the fact that he didn’t even know how to pronounce the word ‘couple’ at one point (coouple) and that he hasn’t had a girlfriend in who knows how long.

Right now, it’s the last thing on his mind.

"Why the fuck would Gavin and I hanging out be romantic?"

Ray raises an eyebrow, pausing for a moment before narrowing his eyes with confusion. “…Aren’t you two dating?”

Michael is much more affected by this statement than he should be. It actually takes him a few moments to compose himself because he can blurt out, “No!”

"Oh?"

"What the fuck would make you think that!?"

"I don’t know," Ray shrugs exaggeratedly, his facial expression showing that he’s just as bewildered by this conversation as Michael is. "You’re always acting so flirty and giggly with one another. I just- uh- I don’t- What the fuck. I’m so confused."

"You thought that because we’re friends now that that means we’re  _dating_?”

Ray looks at a loss for words, uncharacteristically confused past his usual nonchalant attitude. He blinks a few times before turning his chair to the only other person in the office, who is Jack. The man had headphones on while editing his own videos, and doesn’t appear to have heard any of the current conversation.

"Jack," Ray tries to grab his attention. He ends up having to throw his dirt block at the man’s desk, too lazy to roll his chair the incredibly short distance to the other side of the room.

"Don’t throw shit. This isn’t AHWU."

At least it succeeded in getting his attention.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever," he brushes off, too eager to get somebody else on his side about this Michael/Gavin thing. "What’s your wife’s name?"

Jack stares at him blankly for a few moments. “You don’t know my wife’s name?”

"I do," he rolls his eyes, "But I’m trying to make a point. Just answer the question.

"Okay… Her name is Caiti."

"Alright, what’s Geoff’s wife’s name?"

"Griffon."

"Burnie’s girlfriend?"

"Ashley."

"Michael’s boyfriend?"

"Gavin."

“ _Ha!_ " Ray exclaims as he turns back to Michael with triumph, "See! Everybody thinks you’re dating Gavin. Don’t look at me like I’m the crazy one. At least I _know_  when I’m single.”

"I’m not dating Gavin," he states between clenched teeth.

"You’re… not?" Jack seems surprised by this information, which only succeeds in frustrating Michael even more.

"No! I’m not!"

"Are you… sure?"

"What the fuck does that even mean? I think I’d know if I were dating someone."

"Does Gavin know that you aren’t dating?"

"Why would he think we are?"

"Everyone else seems to think so."

"Is it Facebook official?" Ray asks, easily slipping back into his usual sarcastic drawl.

"Shut up. This isn’t funny."

"Sorry that I’m not taking your confusion about having a boyfriend seriously," he responds mockingly.

"I do not have a boyfriend!" he yells, just as the door opens behind him and Ryan walks in through the door.

"Whoa, did you and Gavin have a fight?" he asks innocently, a hint of concern for his younger co-workers relationship.

Michael just gets up from his chair and leaves the room while letting out the louder, most aggressive, groan possible.

*

After that conversation, Michael thinks he should have cancelled the movie outing with Gavin. At least just to sort things out in his brain and settle down, but he’s still having a hard time grasping the meaning of it.

Everybody thinks that they’re dating.

He’s literally taken a huge step towards the visions becoming a reality and he hasn’t even fucking  _noticed_  that he’s moved in the first place.

For the sake of his sanity, he decides that pushing it out of his head and forgetting about it is a good idea. He can deal with this nonsense later and instead act as though everything is normal.

He goes to the movies with Gavin anyways, refusing to think about any of the things said at work today and is focused on just having fun with his boy.

Maybe he’s better at blocking things out than he thinks because it doesn’t cross his mind once. If he were this good at blocking out visions then literally all of his troubles would be solved.

Being able to block out any of the persistent ones would be like heaven to him at this point.

Michael doesn’t want to see  _any_  visions of he and Gavin’s future together, but seeing the one’s of them in more intimate situations make him feel… unsure, for lack of a better term. Like, he’s intruding on somebody else’s private moments instead of just watching his own.

It makes him feel like a peeping tom even though watching both he and Gavin so happy together also leaves him feeling slightly warm inside.

Being married to Gavin is a lot like being married to a rabbit.

The phrase ‘fucking like rabbits’ is one that can be easily compared to the future relationship of the two, much to the annoyance of Michael. A lot of visions consist of he and Gavin banging in various places. Usually in the privacy of their own bed, but sometimes they go out of their way to try and fuck in obscure public locations where they may be easily caught.

The worst thing about it is that, since the visions are random and happen whenever they want, he’ll get them at any point in the day. At home, work, hanging out with friends, while on camera, etc. It doesn’t matter whether he’s in public or private, visions of he and Gavin in more intimate positions are always worming their way into his brain.

Michael hates those ones the most, because if there’s anything he hates more than seeing he and Gavin living a happy and successful life together, it’s seeing them naked together.

He knows probably everything about their sex life. He’s had to watch it like some kind of fucked up porno that he can’t turn off.

Sights of Gavin sweating, throwing his head back in pure unadulterated ecstasy. The sounds of his moans echoing throughout the room, sometimes begging or whining out Michael’s name in a breathy tone.

How fucking pathetic is it that he has to watch himself have sex with the last person on Earth he’d want to have sex with? Well, maybe that’s a lie, but Michael would never admit to it. And he’d never admit to thinking about those visions late at night when alone in bed.

He’d convince himself that he hasn’t reached that point of giving in to the visions yet, but it’s quite clear that he’s wrong.

_Michael quietly walks into an almost empty room, the walls are bare and it’s free of any furniture other than the desk in the middle of the room._

_He tiptoes his way over to Gavin, who has his back turned to the door and is trying to get open a box labelled ‘Office Junk.’_

_"Look at this, got your own fancy shamancy office, huh?" he asks teasingly as he abruptly grabs his boyfriend from behind._

_Gavin gasps and almost jumps out of his grasp. Trying to recatch his breath while chuckling at the same time. Michael lets out a loud laugh at his successful scare._

_He turns around to him face and then smacks him on the shoulder, “You areshole, you scared the shit out of me.”_

_"Well, good, that was my intent."_

_"I thought you were supposed to be helping Geoff with the Achievement Hunter office. I’m supposed to be unpacking, and if you aren’t here to help me then…" he smirks and makes a ‘shoo-shoo’ motion with his hands._

_"I am here to help," Michael insists, and lifts him up easily. Gavin still feels like he only weighs seven pounds, but the only reason it’s difficult is because he begins squealing and wiggling once his feet no longer touch the floor._

_Michael sits him down onto the empty desk, moving to stand between his legs. Gavin raises an eyebrow playfully at him, as though he’s unamused by the events taking place._

_"I do believe that it’s time we break in your new office."_

_Gavin laughs, “I’ve only just gotten it. My things aren’t even in here yet.”_

_"I’m impatient," Michael shrugs with a smile, and then reaches forward to begin kissing his neck._

_He looks reluctant for a few moments, but the feeling of Michael’s lips against his sensitive flesh easily wins out. Breaking in the office sounds like a great idea, and besides, he’s got all day to unpack and get settled in._

_"Go lock the door," Gavin murmurs, unable to speak at a volume any higher. He’s always loved attention on his neck, and he considers it unfair play that Michael used that against him. He’s not going to complain about it though._

_Before removing his lips, he playfully blows a raspberry into Gavin’s neck, which earns him a laugh and a shove towards the door._

_As soon as Michael twists the lock he turns around dramatically before running back over, as though every second that his lips aren’t somewhere on Gavin’s body is a crime._

_"Eager?"_

_Michael shrugs with a smile, “I told you I was impatient.”_

_"Then why are you still wearing clothes?"_

_They both laugh, and Michael realizes how much he loves it when it’s like this._

_Just giggles, laughter, bad jokes, and desperate to be as close to one another as possible. They’re far enough into their relationship now where there are no awkward moments or hidden secrets that turn into startling realizations._

_In that stage of life where you’re just undeniably happy and you’re so in love and enthusiastic to share everything with your partner._

_You just feel so drunk off of the love and affection. Confident that this moment isn’t going to end anytime soon so you can just slow down and enjoy it while it lasts. No rushing, no fears, no insecurities. And every time that they smile you just fall for them a little bit more._

_And then you feel like this must be some kind of elaborate joke because it doesn’t seem physically possible for you to love somebody this much. But, at least if it is a joke, it’s one being played on the both of you._

_Love can be hard to describe, but for Michael and Gavin, the definition always came naturally._

_Michael swiftly pulls Gavin’s shirt over his head, throwing it off with no regard as to where it will land._

_He’s about to reach in and kiss him again, but Gavin stops him by cupping his face in his hands._

_"I want you," he murmurs, his eyes wide with passion but the amusement towards his own words is clear, "All of you."_

_Michael lets out an uncontrolled breathy guffaw, “Well, I wasn’t offering half.”_

_Gavin throws his head back with more laughter, “You’re ruining the moment!”_

_"Me fucking you on your new desk in the middle of moving day is a romantic moment?"_

_"Yes," he exclaims, grinning wildly, "And you’re ruining it!"_

_"I love you," Michael murmurs, his smile softening as to show the true and genuine meaning behind his words, "So goddamn much."_

_And the look in Gavin’s eyes as he says it back is enough to leave Michael breathless. It also leaves him wanting to get the rest of Gavin’s clothes off as soon as possible._

"You just have a vision?" Gavin asks, looking over at him from the passenger seat of his car.

Michael blinks and shakes his head, only now remembering that Gavin was in the middle of telling a story when he’d been pulled away. “Yeah, sorry.”

"Don’t apologize, ya’ minge," he smiles, "What was it about?"

"Uh," Michael scrunches his brows, still slightly dazed after such a strong vision and is attempting to keep his focus on the road in front of him, "Nothing. Don’t worry about it."

Gavin glares at him playfully and leans back into his seat, “You’re so boring. What could you have possibly seen that you wouldn’t want me to know about?”

"Shut up, Gav."

"Seriously, did somebody die? Get sick? Is somebody else getting appendicitis?"

"Worse. Now drop it."

"But-"

"Let it go. We’re at the theater now anyways."

Gavin lets out a huff, but it’s apparent that he isn’t actually annoyed as he pokes Michael’s cheek before leaving the car, only in hopes to both irk the boy and lighten his mood.

It works.

*

Michael doesn’t even notice his arm stretched out across the back of Gavin’s seat. He isn’t even paying attention to the movie, it’s pathetic attempts at eerie plot lines and sinister settings are just not doing it for him.

He’s never really liked horror movies much anyways, only because it takes a lot of effort to block out visions and prevent himself from ruining all of the jump scares or plot twists.

But this movie is such a load of crap that spoiling it is the only thing that’s going to give him any entertainment. He knows when to watch for Gavin’s reaction, and when is the best time to abruptly grab him to get an actual yelp from the lad.

It always results in Gavin glaring at him, along with the few people sitting around them because he’s laughing too hard, but it’s worth it.

The plot twist in this movie is that the house the family is living in, which is obviously haunted, was originally owned by a woman named Martha Sparks, who died in 1939. And, what a surprise, the main character’s wife is named Martha Sparks. They find out that his wife is the actual woman who died, and she’s a ghost, and now she’s attacking and wracking havoc on her own family.

Which is pretty fucking stupid, in Michael’s opinion, because how did that dude marry a ghost? How did he have kids with her? He didn’t notice that she was dead for all of the fifteen years that they’ve been married? And why the hell would she do all of this just to move her (very much alive) family into her old house, scare them shitless, and then kill them once they find out her identity?

Life must be pretty damn boring when you’re a ghost.

Gavin seems pretty enthralled with the plot line though. He’ll flinch at a loud noise, cover his eyes, or lean in to Michael whenever there’s a suspenseful moment. It’s amuses Michael to no end.

Just two minutes before the movie is about to drop the bomb itself, Michael leans over and whispers into Gavin’s ear, “The wife was the ghost the whole time.”

Gavin’s jaw drops in both disbelief and outrage. “Michael!” He whispers angrily, reaching over to smack him as hard as he can on the shoulder. “You absolute arsehole!”

Michael can’t even bring himself to care. He’s giggling gleefully to himself, and ends up having to muffle them by burying his face into Gavin’s shoulder as not to disrupt the other movie goers.

When the husband finds the cliched newspaper article with the picture of his wife from seventy-five years ago, Gavin just glares back and forth between the screen and Michael. Not even jumping when the ghost-wife appears behind the man’s back, just in view of the audience, and lunges at him.

"I don’t think I ever want to watch another movie with you again," he says, amusement glinting in his eyes as he turns back towards the screen with his head held high.

Michael just laughs, “You’ll forget all about it later when we’re drunk.”

That’s all the only conversation they’re able to have because a woman sitting behind them gives a harsh “shhh.” Neither are feeling particularly up for an argument with her, besides, they were the ones talking during the movies anyways. Who knows, she may actually be enjoying the piece of shit.

Michael bites his tongue for the remainder of the movie, limiting his disturbances to occasionally throwing popcorn at Gavin’s nose. Which earns him an amused glare and hard smack on the shoulder each time.

Occasionally Michael thinks about how easily this could be mistaken for a date, but pushes those thoughts out of his mind as soon as they start.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extremely rushed filler chapter because it's been a week since I've last updated and I felt guilty. Sorry! <3

No movie outing is complete without getting totally hammered afterwards.

Michael drinks a lot more than he’d really expected to. He’s just too desperate to wash away all of the thoughts about Gavin, and his co-workers beliefs about them dating, out of his head. Yeah, it’s probably childish to try and drink away his problems, but its the only solution he can think of right now.

If only he could erase Gavin from both his future and his hip right now. The lad is practically glued to him, his bar stool as close as he can possibly be to Michael’s.

Luckily, he’s too far into his drinking to really care or feel the need to shove him away.

To be far, he hasn’t had  _that_  much. Not enough to forget any of this in the morning or dance on the bar counter tops while screaming at the top of their lungs (like what happened last time), but more than the two or three that he was originally expecting to have. He doesn’t even feel drunk, maybe just a little buzzed.

Sometimes drinking can help to block out unwanted visions. It isn’t a tactic he resorts to very often though, and he tries to avoid turning to it as much he can.

He’d learned when he still just a dumb teenager at one of his high school parties. Chugging down drinks and then giggling much too loudly when he’d realized that his visions weren’t coming through unless he’d forced them. The next morning he had woken up with the worst hangover he’s ever had in his entire life, and all of the visions that were blocked out the previous night were coming to him then. Having visions while hungover isn’t exactly paradise.

So, he easily made a promise to himself that he would never turn to drinking to stop visions. Sure, it may help momentarily, but it would never be worth it in the morning. Michael’s close to reaching his stopping point now, and he figures they should go home before he does.

It’s extremely crowded here, and hard to hear anything over the loud music and throngs of people, but something about it is comforting in a way. Neither he or Gavin have to pay attention to the others, and can just continue peacefully drinking and chatting at the bar.

He feels Gavin nudge his shoulder and when he looks over the boy is gesturing to the other side of the bar. Michael follows his request without question, eyes falling onto the two people that he was indicating to.

There’s a girl, sitting at the bar with a drink, trying her hardest to ignore the dude that’s talking to her. She turns every so often, seemingly scanning the crowd for her friends or anybody that she’s come here with, and her face falls a little each time.

The guy doesn’t seem to notice this, or if he does then he just doesn’t care. He just continues to speak, moving a little more closely than she appears to be comfortable with. They can’t hear the one-sided conversation from her, but its clear from the movement of her lips that’s she’s just told him to ‘please go away.’

He doesn’t listen to her and continues asking her to dance or whatever the hell it is he wants.

"Think we should go stop him?" Gavin asks, "Does your psychic thing come in handy during bar fights?"

"Probably, but I wouldn’t know. I’ve never gotten into a bar fight."

"That’s surprising."

Michael turns to glare at him, “What the hell does that mean?”

"I don’t bloody know," Gavin shrugs helplessly, "You just seem like the person that would get into bar fights a lot."

Instead of starting an argument over such an idiotic statement, he turns his attention back to the girl and guy after rolling his eyes. “Come on, let’s go help.”

The make their way through the small crowd around the bar, Michael has his fingers gripped onto Gavin’s shirt, pulling him with him as though he’s a dog on a leash. His eyes are set onto the girl, who is now using her long brown hair as an impromptu shield. Even Michael, who’s a little too drunk right now, can tell that everything about her body language is screaming ‘Would you please kindly fuck off and leave me alone.’

Once Michael and Gavin reach the two and are able to hear the conversation, their suspicions of this guy being a creep that can’t take a hint are confirmed.

"Come on, just let me buy you a drink, huh?" He asks, leaning even closer to her.

"I already have one," she mumbles, gritting her teeth as she puts her all into not lashing out at the guy.

"Hey, dude," Michael says, pushing the guy away from her, "She don’t need a drink. She needs you to fuck off."

He slurs his words a little, trying to sound a lot more drunk than he actually feels.

"Excuse me?" The guy asks, "I was just offering her nicely."

"And I said  _no_ ,” she says, shooting both he and Gavin grateful looks for coming to her assistance.

"You’re just saying that now because you’re trying to play the victim," he accuses, rolling his eyes at her.

Michael is definitely not drunk enough to get into a bar fight, but if it comes to that, he will gladly beat the shit out of this guy.

"Just walk away, dude, okay?" He suggests, " _She_  doesn’t want you here,  _we_ don’t want you here, so why don’t you take the hint and just go somewhere else.”

"What? You her boyfriend or something?"

"No, I just think you should go back to your buddies and leave her alone."

"Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do about it if I don’t?"

"Whatever the fuck you’re good at, I’ll take you in it," he says without even skipping a beat, "I’ll show you up. I’m from Jersey, this shit don’t fly here. Or anywhere."

He’s only briefly aware of Gavin raising an eyebrow at his odd sentencing, and overly slurred words, but it’s all part of his idiotic tactic.

Just because he’s slightly intoxicated doesn’t mean that he can’t access visions. He can already see that this guy, instead of just punching him in the face like he probably should, would rather try and kick his ass in (what he thinks is) a much more “intellectual” way.

Pool, of all things.

Which, doesn’t really make any sense to Michael, but he’s willing to take it. He’s had weirder bar encounters before, and keeping this creep away from a girl that wants to be left alone is all that really matters right now.

He’d be able to take the guy in an actual physical fight, seeing into the future gives him the privilege of knowing when and where to punch or block, but playing bar games would be just as satisfying. Especially when the guy is a cocky prick.

If he doesn’t play up the drunk card and act more intoxicated than he really is, then this guy isn’t going to challenge him to a game of pool.

"Game of pool," the guy suggests, "Me and my friend will kick your asses without even having to try."

"You’ve got yourself a deal," Michael grins, already knowing how this will play out. Some people are just too easy.

Gavin pulls on the sleeve on his shirt, desperately trying to get his attention. Michael can smell the alcohol on his breath as he whispers loudly into his ear. “I don’t know how to play that!”

Michael just rolls his eyes and waves him off, “Just shut up and trust me.”

The guy doesn’t seem to care much for their exchange, but must have heard Gavin’s words because he’s smirking at his doubt. Perfect, Michael thinks, it’s better if he’s a cocky asshole.

"Okay then," the guy says, "You’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll go grab my friend. Two on two, each puts in a hundred bucks. Winners take all."

"Sounds good," Michael nods, already basking in the thought of taking two hundred dollars from these pricks.

*

They win.

Michael’s never considered himself to be good at pool or any other bar games but, when using his visions to his advantage, it’s amazing the amount of things he could be a professional at.

Halfway through playing, the guys seemed to realize that this was a lost cause for them and turned their drunken energy towards trash talking. Neither Michael or Gavin actually paid attention to it though. They were too busy focusing on their games. It reminded him a lot of the baseball and football Lets Plays, where Gavin was practically being taught how to play the games  _while_ the games were going on.

Michael had to split his attention between predicting every move in the game, and teaching Gavin the basics of pool. When your head is so focused on winning a dumb game of pool, you don’t even notice how physically close you’re getting to your best friend. Showing him how to hold the pool stick on the table might have became a little more close and intimate than intended, but he didn’t even notice.

Maybe he’s been a little too touchy-feely with Gavin lately.

Nonetheless, they still walked out of the bar each one hundred dollars richer.

It went without saying that by the time Michael and Gavin left, they were both tipsy enough that their shared giggles and slurred words were no longer obnoxious to anyone other than those around them. They might have gotten a little giddy after winning the (extremely rigged) game of pool.

"I thought you said you wouldn’t use your powers to scam money out of people," Gavin says, snickering as he pockets his money.

"I said I wouldn’t do it to win the lottery, although you are right. But those guys were assholes and I wanted to get back at them somehow."

"They were mingemisters," Gavin grins.

"The Mingemister General?" Michael continues, unaware that this conversation is making less and less sense as it continues.

"Yes," he agrees firmly, "And you helped that girl!"

"That I did."

"You barreled in there and took charge."

"Uh-huh," Michael nods along as he works on hailing a taxi for them."

"Actual superhero Michael Jones."

"You know it, buddy," he grins as a taxi stops and pulls Gavin in with him.

Michael holds no recollection of what the ride to his apartment was like, but he feels bad for the cab driver and he remembers giving him a nice tip just for having to put up with Gavin’s drunk rambling.

The fact that Gavin lives on the other side of town completely slipped from both of their minds. That, or Gavin is a sneaky intoxicated bastard with a plan. Either way, Michael didn’t realize it until he was half dragging the boy’s body up the stairs.

Gavin’s arm is thrown haphazardly around his shoulder, and he’s lifting most of his weight. If Michael didn’t regret living on the eighth floor of his apartment before, he definitely does now.

Michael needs to keep his grip secure because otherwise Gavin’s toddler-like curiosity will kick in and they’ll never get upstairs.

Which is something that they need to do because they’re both talking and laughing loud enough to receive several noise complaints from his grouchy neighbors.

"Do you think that they’ll get enough money to pay for that?"

"I have no idea, buddy," Michael snickers, only just tuning in to Gavin’s rambling and not following it in the slightest. He’s sure that he still wouldn’t understand it even if he  _were_  paying attention.

"Do you have more bevs at your place?"

"Of course, we can play some video games and get even more drunk.

They eventually reach his floor and Michael no longer has to drag Gavin along because he quickly begins to walk himself. Rushing ahead of Michael, he says the door’s he passes out loud.

He stops when he reaches 291, planting his feet firmly in front of the door, and waits for Michael to come and unlock it.

Michael rolls his eyes and follows after him, walking past and grabbing him by the back of the shirt as he does so. He pulls Gavin to 292, his actual apartment number, and begins to unlock the door.

Gavin furrows his eyebrows, “You don’t live here.”

Michael gives him a blank stare as his key fits perfectly into the look and he pushes the door open.

"Oh," he murmurs, looking back and forth between the neighboring apartment entrances. "When did you move?"

"I didn’t," Michael says as they walk into his home, taking off their coats and throwing them sloppily onto the coat rack, "You’re just a moron."

"Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t come over alone or else your neighbors would be getting quite the wake-up call at two in the morning."

*

Anytime that he and Gavin are spending time alone together, it’s just so easily casual. The night turns into an amusing exchange of dumb jokes, video games, and more alcohol.

Sometimes it scares Michael how comfortable they are with one another. Sprawled out on his couch, lazily playing a one on one match against one another in whatever game they’ve picked out, and talking aimlessly about things that don’t really matter.

"So, you just decide to that you want to have a vision and it’ll just happen?" Gavin asks.

"Yeah," Michael nods, "It wasn’t so easy at first, but after a lot of practice I could force them without any hassle."

"That’s amazing."

"I guess."

"You don’t think so?"

"Not really… Understand that being psychic probably seems like the greatest thing, but it really isn’t. Sometimes it just plain sucks."

It only started sucking when he’d met Gavin.

"Like when?"

"Huh?"

"Give me an example."

Memories of visions of he and Gavin being together dance through his head, but he shakes them away. Knowing full well that he wouldn’t be able to bring those up.

"Um, when I was a kid I always knew what I was getting for Christmas months in advance. Also knew about Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy and all that crap too. Which is shitty when you’re a kid and you can’t tell your parents that you know they’re lying."

"Wow, alright. Being a psychic kid probably sucks sometimes."

"Yeah."

"But only sometimes. The other times it must kick ass."

Michael nods as he thinks about it. “That’s how I’d gotten through life for the most part. I passed high school because of them, gotten a job at Rooster Teeth,” he shrugs, “Loads of shit. I don’t know where I would be without them.”

"You wouldn’t be able to see that?"

"That has nothing to do with the future, so no."

Gavin hums as he thinks it over, and Michael thinks that maybe it’s the end to his questions.

"You must be the best person to take to Las Vegas."

Michael snickers, never ever considering that before, “Yeah, probably. Now shut up and play the stupid game. It’s boring just killing you without any fight.”

Gavin turns his attention back to the screen and gapes at the kill count. The match ends in a minute and twenty seconds, but there’s no way he could catch up now. Maybe playing video games with a psychic is not in his best interest, and he makes a mental note to pick a teamwork game next time.

Michael doesn’t even get to hear his complaining about it.

_When you’re the father of a young girl, you find yourself listening to a lot of teen pop music that makes you want to rip your hair out._

_Gavin and Michael are currently struggling with this every time that they go on car trips. Which is what they’re doing now. Michael already knows what this four hour car ride will consist of._

_Their daughter is in the back, in her bright pink car seat, grinning at him through the rear-view mirror._

_"Please, daddy!?" she squeals, bringing up her chubby fists to her cheeks, "Can we_ please _?”_

_"Please what?" Gavin asks from the passenger seat._

_"She wants to listen to her music."_

_The smile drops off of his face and Michael chuckles as he can already sense a fight coming on._

_"No," Gavin says firmly, "I_ refuse _to listen to nothing but One Direction for a five hour car ride.”_

_"Papa!" she squeals, "Please! I asked nicely and everything, I just really wanna listen to my music!"_

_Michael stays silent doesn’t offer any assistance to either his husband or daughter during their argument._

_Hearing his husband fight with their four year old is too amusing to end. They fight like cats and dogs sometimes, and it’s probably the cutest thing Michael’s ever seen because they’re both so stubborn._

_"No!" Gavin states again, "You’re on my side, Michael? You don’t want to listen to One Direction either, right?"_

_"Sorry to say this dear, but I have to agree with Papa on this one. We listened to your CD last time, so maybe we should just put on the radio."_

_His heart breaks when he sees her face crumple in disappointment. Her lips stick out in a pout and he can already see the sadness welling up in her eyes._

_"Oh no, love, don’t cry," Gavin immediately says, reaching back from his seat to soothe her, "We just listen to that CD so much, wouldn’t you rather listen to something else for a change?"_

_She sniffles a little, looking down at her lap, and shakes her head softly._

_"Look what you’ve done! You’ve made a four year old cry," Michael accuses._

_"I didn’t do it! You were the one that agreed with me! Your words were what pushed it over the edge!"_

_They look at one another for a few moments, both trying to diffuse their frustration and guilt towards the situation. Long car rides are never ideal in this family, they always end in some type of feud._

_Even before they’d had a daughter, Michael and Gavin were the worst at getting along in the car for long periods of time. This trait has apparently been passed down to their offspring._

_"Put on the damn CD," Gavin mutters._

_"Don’t say it as though_ I’m _happy about it.” Michael grumbles._

_He presses play, and the sounds of cheery up-beat pop music fills the entire car, but their daughters cheers and cries of thanks are louder._

_The two dads just groan._

_*_

_"You don’t know you’re beautiful!" he and Gavin scream, singing horribly along to the same song they’ve heard for the last few hours, "That’s what makes you beautiful!"_

_They’re been forced to sit through this CD enough times to know every word to every one of the songs on it, much to their annoyance. But if anyone were to see them now, it wouldn’t be a far stretch to assume that they’re actual fans of the songs themselves._

_They get into singing a lot more than they should, always putting their all into dramatically belting out the words at the top of their lungs along with their daughter, laughing and dancing in their seats along the way._

_The things you put up with when you become a father._

_"We’re here!" Michael announces as he parks the car, turning down the song so that it’s no longer threatening to destroy the car’s speakers._

_They both look into the back seat at the same time, ready to face the onslaught of their daughters excitement. It’s dark out by now, but they’re able to see her laying slack in her car seat, snoozing peacefully despite how loud the music was playing only moments before._

_Gavin and Michael look at one another, slight embarrassment and amusement playing on their features._

_"When did we become such_ dad’s _?” Gavin questions._

_Michael just smirks and presses a kiss to his cheek, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”_

When Michael fades back into real life, he sees Gavin staring at with him curiosity. “Did you have another vision? What was it?”

Michael rolls his eyes and kills Gavin’s character again. Resulting the match ending in a score of twenty three to two. Gavin whines about how unfair that is, and easily forgets about the vision or his questions about it.

Michael smiles at himself and rolls his eyes, murmuring the answer to himself as he thinks over the contents of the vision. “Nothing.”


	11. Chapter 11

They stand in the kitchen, Michael making them both new drinks of Riot Punch. After listening to Gavin whine for about ten minutes about how he wants a bev and is to lazy to make it himself, Michael had finally gave in and dragged him to the kitchen to make one for him. Mainly only because he wanted one too, but

"Let’s play a game!" Gavin suggests excitedly, grabbing Michael’s drink from the counter just seconds after the boy’s done filling it.

Michael rolls his eyes and gets a new glass for himself, knowing that it’s better to just play along than argue with him about it. “Thought we were already doing that.”

"Not a video game."

"There’s other kinds?" he jokes, mixing his Riot Punch with a smirk.

"Uh-huh! Let’s play…" he trails off as he thinks deeply about it, even reaching up to hold his chin for dramatic affect. His eyes widen with delight as the idea comes to him. "Confessions!"

"Confessions?"

"It’s like a game."

"Yeah, for high schoolers," Michael rolls his eyes as he puts the Sunny D back into the fridge.

Gavin grins cheekily at him, “Would you rather play spin the bottle?”

"Confessions it is!" he announces, "How does it even work?"

"You just confess things. Embarrassing things, usually. And you can’t tell anyone else anything that’s shared, no matter what," he says, looking straight into Michael’s eyes with threatening intent.

He smirks and shoves the boy’s face away, “I won’t, I won’t.”

_"Confession game," Gavin states, a worried look on his face._

_Michael raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms, looking at the small aquarium behind Gavin that is now only home to the lifeless goldfish floating at the top of the water._

_"The fish died," Gavin continues._

_"Did you forget to feed it while I was gone?"_

_His boyfriend avoids his gaze guiltily, “Maybe.”_

_*_

_"Confession game!" Gavin says, walking behind Michael and wrapping his arms around his husband’s waist._

_"Oh yeah?" Michael asks, smirking with irritation as he rinses off a plate and place it off to the side before putting his hands back into the soapy sink water._

_"I may have forgotten to do the dishes."_

_Michael just scoffs and turns around, getting his revenge by shoving a handful of bubbles into Gavin’s face._

_*_

_They’re sitting on the couch, pressed so close to one another and limbs in such a tangle that it’s a wonder how they’re able to focus on the video game they’re playing._

_Gavin lets out a cheer of celebration, almost throwing his controller down to show his excitement._

_"Confession game, I totally just kicked your ass!"_

_"That’s not even a confession."_

_"Well, it still happened."_

Michael snickers at the montage of visions and takes a large swig of his drink to try and forget about them.

"You go first."

"Okay. Confession, I say that I hate broccoli, but I’ve never actually had it before."

"You’re never had broccoli?"

"No, and I have no plans to. It looks like a disgusting tiny tree."

"That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard in my life."

"Don’t judge me. It’s your turn."

"Um, I was the quarterback on my high school football team."

"Is that only because you were psychic and could predict the other teams plays beforehand?"

"Yeah, and it worked damn well for me too. I was the most popular kid in school."

"I bet you looked damn adorable in a Letterman jacket."

Michael just snickers, “Your turn.”

They play for what feels like a very long time. Admitting to everything they can possibly think of. Sometimes it’s something stupid or pointless, sometimes it’s more serious or embarrassing.

Even though they’re playing a stupid game meant for teenagers, it’s still kind of amusing. It’s is a lot more fun than it probably should be. But maybe that’s just because of how much they’ve had to drink tonight.

They admit to childish things like how Michael slept with a teddy bear until he was sixteen, or how Gavin can’t fall asleep with counting backwards from one hundred. But they also admit to ones like when they’d lost their virginity, last time they’ve had sex with somebody, and other extremely personal things like that.

It should be embarrassing or awkward, but they’re both entirely comfortable. No hints of red cheeks or trouble maintaining eye contact. Just laughter and confidence as they confess to everything they can think of.

And it’s weird, Michael thinks, how they’ve ended up here. In his kitchen, drunk together, playing silly games and confessing to ridiculous things that don’t mean anything. It makes him smile, because even though he tried his hardest to avoid a friendship with Gavin, this feels right.

"Okay, my turn," Gavin gives a smile as he looks down at his drink, fidgeting with it with his free hand before finally placing it onto the counter.

Michael nods, still snickering over Gavin’s last confession about being the one that stole that copy of Halo 3 from the office. The one that they searched high and low for because they needed it for an episode of VS.

He hops down and walks closer to Michael, grinning drunkenly as he does so. “Confession, I kind of like you. As… ya’know… More than a friend.”

Michael’s amused smile drops from his face.

He wasn’t expecting  _that_. Maybe an idiotic confession about how he can’t watch scary movies on his own or refuses to piss while standing up because it requires too much effort, but not  _this_.

He shouldn’t really be surprised, he’s known that Gavin likes him. Hell, the entire company had already thought they were dating, and they’re destined to get married to one another at some time in the relative future.

Michael’s denied everything about this side of Gavin ever since he’d became friends with him, but it quite clear that isn’t going to work anymore.

If Gavin were sober right now, he would probably take the short silence as rejection and quickly back off with embarrassment. But to be fair, if he were sober he wouldn’t be confessing to this in the first place. He’d once said on the podcast that in order to ask somebody out he needs to be drunk, and now it’s clear that he wasn’t lying.

Michael’s trying to think of what to say, but he’s too stunned. Gavin blurting out his feeling during a drunk high school game was not how he’d expecting this night to go. He’d thought he was doing well with the whole ‘keep your relationship strictly friend based.’

Apparently Gavin doesn’t realize or care that he’s shocked into silence, because he grabs Michael by the shirt. Grasping the material in his fingers and pulling the boy closer to him before crashing their lips together.

For a moment he’s about to shove him away and ask what the hell is wrong with him, but he makes the mistake of actually acknowledging the feel of Gavin kissing him. How genuine it feels, as though he’s desperately pouring all of those unsaid drunken emotions into a kiss.

And it’s nice.

It almost offends Michael how quickly he gives in to it. All memories of hating Gavin and wanting nothing to do with him leave his brain, replacing them only with the ones they’re making now.

He’s only briefly aware of the fact that his drink has slipped through his limp fingers and has fallen to the floor. The dull thunk it makes goes unnoticed by the two, and so does the small amount of liquid that seeps into the carpet surrounding their feet.

Michael can only focus on his hands finding Gavin’s waist sliding behind his back to pull their bodies closer together.

Gavin releases his grip on Michael’s shirt, but they’re immediately raised to tenderly hold his cheeks. His palms firmly framing the sides of Michael’s face.

The pleasure that spikes through his entire body when they’r pressed together like this is mind numbing, it fills his head with an almost disgustingly sweet euphoria that he’s desperate to get more of. Heat pools in his stomach as their kiss deepens even more, taking a sharp turn into a full blown make out session in the middle of his tiny kitchen.

Maybe this is only happening because Michael’s still annoyed at the conversation he’d had earlier about his nonexistent relationship with Gavin. Granted, using that anger as fuel for this make out session with said guy is probably not helping his case.

He may claim that Gavin is a living contradiction, but damn if he isn’t one too.

They’re like teenagers, moving against one another erratically and not even caring when their teeth clash together harshly in their impatience to be closer.

He feels his own pulse accelerate. Thumping erratically in his chest with no signs of slowing any time soon.

Maybe they’re too drunk, but at the moment, it doesn’t matter to either of them.

His head is just filled with thoughts of Gavin. His lips, face, clothes,  _everything_ , and now he just wants to destroy the entire notion that he ever hated the guy to begin with.

Because for those few perfect moments, Gavin is all he really cares about.

It’s ruined when something in Michael’s brain snaps him back to his senses.

Pushing Gavin away from him almost feels like a crime at this point, but his hands move on their own accord, roughly shoving him back a few feet.

"Get the fuck off me," he blurts out, his eyes wide with confusion at what had just taken place.

It switches from pleasure to pain so quickly that it’s almost like a switch being flipped.

Without any warning, his brain feels like it exploding.

Visions force their way across his eyesight, giving him almost transparent scenes of the future in such a quick and rushed pace that it makes his head spin.

Its fucking with him too much. Making out with your best friend is hard enough to handle on its own, but its a goddamn nightmare when you’re visions are acting up. Showing him scenes that he can’t pay attention to long enough to understand what’s happening in them because they’re going so quickly, almost like a video stuck on fast-forward.

It’s transparent enough where he can see both the visions, and the look of crumpled disappointment, worry, confusion, and fear on Gavin’s face.

His lips are parted, slightly swollen from the intense action they’d just received. Breath coming out in shallow rapid pants, trying to supply oxygen to his lungs after their fierce make out session. But he doesn’t dare speak a word, and Michael wishes that he didn’t have to be the one to speak first because he isn’t sure if his mouth will cooperate with him at the moment.

Everything is screaming at him. The emotion he feels from seeing Gavin’s face, the visions zooming around erratically with no control or off-switch, his body telling him to just shut up and go back to kissing Gavin, and his own head wanting to get as far away from the boy in front of him as possible.

Every future argument, every fight, every pathetic tear that tries to get discreetly wiped out of the corner of their eyes between screaming matches of disagreement. It all dances across his vision in a delirious symphony, both making him feel dizzy and nauseous at the same time.

Putting too much energy on focusing onto any one of them just sends a spike of pain through his head, as though scolding him for trying to make sense of this mess he’s buried himself into.

Fuck, being friends with Gavin was a bad idea.

This entire fucking charade was a bad idea.

Michael rubs his eyes, so harshly that dark spots dance across his vision and makes his eyesight even worse. But it succeeds in dimming the visions, they stop entirely and he feels dizzy from the sudden thrust back into real life.

The longer he stands here suffering through this, the more it feels like he’s about to faint or collapse. He idiotically decides to put his remaining strength into speaking.

"Get the fuck out of my apartment," is what he manages to say. His own head deciding for him that he needs to be alone right now more than anything.

There’s a beat of silence, as Gavin processes the words. His eyes widen in either confusion or shock. Maybe it’s a mix of both. He opens his mouth hesitantly, clearly wanting to say something but not finding words to fill the tense air. It reminds Michael of both a puppy being scolded and a deer caught in headlights.

"I said get the fuck out!" Michael screams, not caring that he probably looks like a lunatic right now.

This is exactly what he didn’t want.

He didn’t want to get attached.

Because looking at the defeated rejection that written across Gavin’s face is enough to tear his goddamn heart in two.

"Mic-"

Michael interrupts him by roughly shoving his shoulder towards the direction of the door, “Get out of my fucking apartment! And stay the fuck away from me! Forever! I don’t want to ever fucking see you again!”

Gavin nods slowly, his expression unreadable as he turns around and makes his way towards the door.

Michael squeezes his eyes shut, bringing his palms up to cover them because the light in the room is hurting his eyes. It only adds to the pain growing within his head. He fingers are curled against his eyebrows, his breathing uncontrolled and messy.

He’s too overcome with the feeling of nausea and pain to even think about the social aspect to this. He’d just made out with his best friend, and then screamed that he never wanted to see him again. This isn’t something that’s going to be solved easily, but right now it’s the last thing on his mind.

As soon as he hears the door close, his knees give out, and he wants nothing more than to scream at the top of his lungs.

Maybe he’s just to drunk too deal with any of this right now. He wants nothing more than to push all of these thoughts about his relationship with Gavin, the visions, his pain, and the fuckery that is his life right now, as far out of his head as possible.

And that’s what he does.

He isn’t sure how he’d managed to make it to his bedroom, but suddenly he’s collapsing into his bed. The blankets are soft and inviting, as though they’re eager to comfort him after the day’s events. He doesn’t hesitate to bury himself as deep into them as possible, leaving no part of his body uncovered.

Although he muffles his screams of exasperation and frustration into his pillow, he knows that his neighbors have probably heard and have been woken up by them.

He couldn’t care less at this point.

By the time he finishes, his throat burns with raw pain. His entire body is covered in a disgusting layer of sweat, and his head is pounding like a drum.

He’s never had to deal with such stress before. He’s used to everything going his way. Manipulating things so that they always work out in his favour.

Michael Jones is completely unfamiliar to all of his control over a situation being ripped away from him.

He’s never felt so helpless, pathetic, and guilty.

The emotions are eating him alive and he feels like such a baby for letting it destroy him this easily in such a short amount of time.

He can deal with the repercussions tomorrow.


	12. Chapter 12

Michael doesn’t end up dealing with it.

Instead, he allows it to be pushed to the back of his head and refuses to acknowledge it.

Admittedly, not his best solution to such a supreme problem, but when has he ever been good at dealing with things up front? This isn’t something that he can just peek into the future to solve. It requires him to actually work towards getting forgiveness, or redemption…or whatever the hell he wants right now.

He doesn’t even know himself.

All he knows is that the thought of Gavin heartbroken and guilty leaves a disgustingly thick feeling pooling in the bottom of his gut, as though he’s laying down with rocks resting against his stomach. It’s pathetic that one thing could effect him so heavily, and he wishes that this whole ordeal could be fixed without any effort on his half. Sadly, the world isn’t that simple.

In an odd and cruel twist of fate, he gets what he’s wanted since the beginning.

Gavin leaves him alone.

Which is unfair because it’s the last thing he wants right now, but he doesn’t deserve ‘fair’ anymore. He knows that’s he’s fucked up big time. Even if his growing relationship with Gavin had freaked him out to the point where he’d spent the next day throwing up and moaning in pain on his bathroom floor, he doesn’t deserve forgiveness. Things have been fucking terrible lately and it’s all because Gavin actually listened to him for once.

He fucked off, and attempts to stay as far away as possible.

Obviously that’s a lot easier said than done, since they work together, but Gavin’s doing a lot better job of ignoring Michael than Michael ever did of ignoring Gavin.

No more shared jokes between the two. Giggles and laughter at their own silly antics in Let’s Plays. Silly faces and obnoxious noises.

Gavin just put a complete stop to it. Only associating with him if it was required in a video.

It kills him to be so close to Gavin, but yet so far away from him at the same time.

It also didn’t do much for his conscious, because every time he would look over and see the British idiot, laughing at something being sad or making ridiculous squealy noises to appease the fan’s love of his ridiculousness, it would just send spikes of regret to his gut.

Guilt is a useless emotion.

There’s still a tug deep within him that yearned for more. This was no longer just about him feeling guilty for outright being an asshole to Gavin again, now he’s craving for actual forgiveness as though his life depends on it.

No, he doesn’t deserve it. He knows that if the roles were reversed, and Gavin came to him with apologizes and puppy dog eyes, he wouldn’t hesitate to punch him in the face and tell him to go fuck himself.

Making out with your best friend, then being kicked out and screamed at the never come back, is not something that you can just forgive and forget.

Then again, Gavin’s surprised him before.

*

The amount of time between telling Lindsay the entire story, and her smacking him upside the head, was almost laugh-worthy.

"What the fuck was that for!?" he questions, rubbing the abused area with his palm.

"Because you’re a fucking moron."

"Again," he mutters, "Harsh."

"No, what’s harsh is how you’re treating people that you care about. And don’t even try to tell me that you don’t care about Gavin, because we both know that you’re just one step away from being sickeningly in love with him," he states, glaring deep into his eyes, the annoyance bubbling beneath them makes him want to look away.

"I am not!"

"Yes, you are! Michael, do you not understand anything of what’s going on right now? You’re a stubborn jackass. How have you not yet accepted any of this Gavin shit?"

  
"I don’t wanna accept it."

“ _Because_ , like I said, you’re a stubborn jackass. I’ve had enough of dealing with your bullshit. It’s just constant whining about ‘Oh no, I’m going to end up marrying Gavin. Secretly this is the greatest thing in the world, but I’m a moron that wants to pretend that I hate him. Boo hoo, life is so hard. Why can’t things just work out in the twisted way that I want them to?’” she mocks, imitating his voice and dramatically reaching up to wipe at her eyes to give the impression that he’s crying over it.

Michael crosses his arms and looks away with a scowl. “I don’t sound like that.”

"Yes, you do. And you act like that too," she glares, "No more Miss Nice Lindsay, okay? I’m through with letting you shrug Gavin off and leaving him out in the dust. I’m not even as close of a friend with him as you are and it’s breaking my goddamn heart to see him being hurt like this  _just_ because you’re so intent on hurting yourself too.”

  
"I’m not hurting anyone."

"Oh yeah? Are you happy, Michael? Right now?"

There’s a beat of silence, and he’s reluctant to answer, but not doing so will only prove her point about him being stubborn. “…Not particularly.”

"And do you think Gavin is happy right now?"

"I don’t know," he shrugs, "Probably not."

"Exactly. And who’s fault is that?" She scoffs, "We’ve already had this conversation before, and I’m through with being annoyed with you."

"Thank god," he mutters.

"You need to talk to Gavin. If not to make things right, at least to apologize and explain all of this. You know that he deserves more than a brief make-out session in a kitchen, followed by being kicked out with a scream to never return."

Michael looks at her for a silent moment before letting out a breath through his nose, “You’re right.”

"When am I not?"

He smirks, but it doesn’t take long for it to fade away as the reality of this situation continues to sink in and drowns him in the guilt.

*

It’s after they’ve finished filming a GTA video that Michael finally forces himself to

 

"We need to talk," Michael states, knowing that the expression on his face is one of concern. Gavin’s is identical, but his eyebrow is raised in hesitance with just a pinch of annoyance.

He shrugs, reaching up to pull down his headphones all of the way so that they rest around his neck. “I don’t really want to.”

Michael just sighs, looking away from a moment to compose himself. Serious conversations have never been his forte, but have they ever been anyone’s? Who would want to actually be in a situation like this?

"But we need to. We’re friend, that’s what friends do when… something like this happens."

"So, we’re still friends?" Gavin questions, some sarcasm laced into his voice, "Could have fooled me."

“ _You’ve_  been the one ignoring me.”

"And for good reason. You were the one who told me to never talk to you again. I’m just giving you what you want."

"That’s not what I want. Not by a long shot. I was just angry and frustrated and speaking without thinking," he explains, paired with a guilty sigh of exasperation his own past actions, "I’m sorry, alright? I was a total ass and you have every right to be annoyed with me."

Gavin purses his lips, not avoiding looking straight into Michael’s eyes like one would expect him to. His eyebrows furrowing during the silence, as though he’s thinking over the apology with strict consideration.

Gavin said numerous times before that once somebody is cut out of his life, then they’re  _out._  Gone forever into the abyss of being ignored and uncared for by Gavin Free. A punishment that Michael would have  _begged_  for when they first met.

But instead, Gavin just nods and surprises him even more with his next words.

"I suppose I’m sorry for all of this too."

Michael raises a brow, “For what?”

Gavin has nothing to be sorry for. He’s the ‘victim’ in this odd friendship predicament that they’ve found themselves in.

"For kissing you," he mumbles, cheeks almost pink, "You’re not the only one at fault here I was pretty drunk, but that’s not excuse. I knew that you didn’t like me like that, but I still went for it anyway. You had every right to push me away and tell me to get out."

Michael tries to process the apology, but no matter how many times he flips it over in his brain, it doesn’t make any sense.

Gavin feels bad? For what? Giving him one of the best make out sessions he’s had since high school?

If Michael wasn’t only apologizing for kicking Gavin out and screaming at him, he’s definitely apologizing for stopping the kiss in the first place. Especially because it’s cause him a lot of pain. Both emotional and physical.

"You don’t… have to feel sorry for that," he mumbles, refusing to look Gavin in the eyes. "I kissed back. We were both drunk, it was stupid, okay?"

"No," he shakes his head, "No, I think I do have to apologize because it’s quite clearly what’s pushed you so far away from me and caused this in the first place."

"I didn’t push you away."

"You quite physically did."

"No, I didn’t, I just… I don’t know. Maybe it seems like I did, but I really didn’t mean to. Or, maybe I did? It’s just been so impossible to differentiate between what I want and what the future wants, you know?" he mumbles, mainly to himself. When he looks back up at Gavin he just has to let out a sigh at his own incomprehensible words.

Gavin just shakes his head, “You’re not making any sense.”

Michael runs a hand through his hair in frustration, it’s just so hard to get these complicated emotions out all at once and piece them together into something understandable. “I know, I’m sorry.”

"Stop apologizing."

"I will when you do."

"Well, since we’re all done apologizing, and everything has been smoothed over," he says, his tone indicating that he feels the opposite, reaching up to fit his headphones back around his ears. "If you’ll excuse me, I’d really like to have this video edited before the day is out."

Michael reaches out though a places a firm hand on his wrist, preventing him from blocking out this scene with whatever Minecraft videos he’s trying to keep himself busy with.

"Gavin, just wait, okay? I want things to go back to the way they were."

"Well, I don’t think they can at this point, Michael. We made out in your kitchen and then you screamed that you never wanted to see me again. Can you imagine  _any_  friendships bouncing back from that?”

"No, but our friendship is different. We’re stronger than that ‘drifting away’ nonsense, right? When I finally agreed to be friends with you I didn’t expect you to bitch out after the first minor road bump."

"I wouldn’t consider that minor."

Michael crinkles his nose in annoyed understanding. Figures that Gavin wouldn’t just let him have this one. “Yeah, me either,” he has to resist the urge to sigh as he admits it. Lying or sucking up to him isn’t going to solve any of this, and he knows that the only way to fix his fuck up is to genuinely apologize. That option isn’t looking very bad anyways, because he does feel incredibly guilty for treating Gavin like that.

"Look, I’m sorry. I  _really_  am. It was fucked up and I feel horrible for kicking you out like that with no explanation.”

Gavin stares at him for a few moments, and nods a  _lot_  sooner than Michael had expected him to. “Alright, I’ll forgive you.”

"Rea-"

“ _But_ ,” he interrupts, “Only if you tell me what the hell is going on.”

That causes Michael to raise an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

"I know that you’re hiding something from me. Did you have a vision or something? Because if you have and it concerns me, then I want to know what it is. Yeah, we were both pretty drunk and maybe not in the best state, and emotions were high because we sort of did just made out in the middle of your kitchen with no warning, but… something was off about you. You were  _angry_. I haven’t seen you look at me with that much genuine annoyance and frustration since we’d first met. And I know that you might try to brush it off as just being annoyed that we kissed,” he murmurs, trying to avoid eye contact whenever he brings up the kiss, “But I know you better than that.”

Michael has to fight the urge to glare at him. “Fucking hell, I hate all of this bullshit so much. We sound like we’re in some kind of pathetic romance movie. All that’s missing is rain and somebody with no shirt on.”

"And a dog."

"What romance movies have dogs in them?"

"101 Dalmatians was pretty romantic."

Michael lets out a breathy chuckle at the bad joke, but he’s relieved that it lightens the mood.

Gavin smirks too, snickering at his own joke and then reaching up to run a hand through his messy hair. Michael hates himself for choosing this moment to admire him. Everything about Gavin’s features just call out to Michael like a song bird.

When they’d first met, he didn’t consider him to be anything special, maybe a little more on the attractive side than most, but overall an average individual. Now they’ve grown on him so much that the amount his future-self adores and cherishes Gavin’s face when holding it doesn’t seem like so much of a stretch.

"I am hiding something from you," he murmurs, nodding his head slightly as he thinks over the numerous ways he could break it to him.

This isn’t just something that you can blurt out and expect everything to be alright. Telling him isn’t going to make their friendship go back to normal, far from it. But, Michael’s sick of it being like  _this_. He doesn’t care what happens to their relationship now, as long as it’s as far away from this as possible.

"I know, Lindsay told me."

Michael’s eyes widen, “You talked to Lindsay?”

He shrugs, “More like she talked to me. Came over and ranted about how much of an idiot you were and how things would be easily solved if you just told me the truth.”

"Did she  _tell_  you?”

"About the secret thing? No, I just know that something is going on and apparently you’re a stubborn idiot for not telling me yet," he explains, his face uncharacteristically serious as he speaks, but there’s also the tiniest hint of concern. "So what is it?"

"It’s nothing  _that_  serious.”

"Is it about me?"

"Yeah."

"Am I in trouble?"

"Not really?" he shrugs, scrunching his eyebrows together in concentration. This is such a weird conversation that he’s never wanted to have in the first place. He hates being psychic right now, then this shit wouldn’t be happening. It’s putting him in such an unsure state, and he’s not used to that.

Gavin Free fucks up everything.

He looks strangely hopeful as he takes a small step forward, “Well, what is it?”

"I…" he begins, but trails off when he actually looks at Gavin, finally paying attention to him for the first time since this conversation started.

And, fuck, was that a bad idea.

Just looking at him is like a slap in the face. Something screaming at him for being so stupid for this long and refusing to accept everything that has been so graciously given to him.

Maybe Gavin’s not the problem.

Gavin’s the solution.

And no matter how stupid and cliche that sounds in his head, everything about it is so right.

Just looking at him right now, staring at him expectantly and waiting for some kind of explanation to all of this as though Michael holds all of the answers, it reminds Michael that neither of them understand this shit.

They’re both just two idiots, stuck into this never ending conflict that’s pushing them farther and farther away from one another after they’ve finally found a bit of happiness.

Being friends with Gavin was great. It was more than great, it was amazing. But, it wasn’t enough. It felt like there needed to be more there.

He needed to be closer, talk more, share more, understand  _more_.

There was an undeniable thirst that couldn’t be quenched with just  _friendship_.

Fuck, this is all so stupid.

Gavin narrows his eyes at him for a moment, causing Michael to wonder for a split second if he’s going to take back his acceptance of the apology.

"Just tell me," he says, but his expression turns to one of insistence and almost defeat.

Before he can even think to begin to explain, the door behind him opens, and they both turn to see the rest of the Achievement Hunters piling in, their hands filled with plates of pizza for themselves.

Of course, with their perfect timing, as always.

They pay no attention to the two, or seem to realize that a serious discussion was undergo. Instead they all just make their ways towards their individual desks, casually speaking and laughing over their own conversations.

"Come on, asswipes," Geoff instructs causally, "We’ve got a Let’s Play to film."

Gavin turns his own attention away and nods, turning back to his own desktop as well.

It’s clear that he’s willing to drop the conversation for now, but Michael’s still standing there. Stuck with the possibilities of how the unavoidable truth is going to play out.

He can’t wait any longer.

This stupid charade has been going on for months, and he’s finished with allowing it to take over his every concern.

He turns away too, settling into his chair quietly without reaching to unpause his GTA game like the rest of the guys.

Michael ignores Geoff’s instructions in favor of pulling out his phone and preparing himself to send a new text message.

Jack mutters into the microphone, making a joke about how texting during work is unprofessional after Ray rats out his actions. The others just laugh, not actually caring and continuing on with whatever mission their doing together in GTA.

Michael couldn’t care less, he just stares at the text message written out, ready to send, and allows his thumb to hover over the button for a few hesitant moments before finally pressing it.

All of this stupid drama leading up to just one singular text message to destroy it.

If Michael didn’t feel like an idiot before, he definitely does now.

He hears the telltale sound of Gavin’s ringtone. The obnoxious cawing noise that echoes throughout the entire room and causes Geoff to yell out a curse at him.

They all just laugh, but Michael just silently picks back up his Xbox controller, unpausing his game to casually slip back into the video.

But he can’t even pretend to ignore the surprised stare that Gavin gives him when he unlocks his phone and reads over the new message he’d just received from the boy sitting less than three feet away from him.

Gavin’s eyes are widened in shock, not even paying attention to the consistent chatter or lame jokes that their co-workers are making at the expense of one another.

He looks almost in a trance, split between processing the information without having an outburst, and looking back and forth between Michael and the words currently sent onto the screen of his phone.

_We get married._


	13. Chapter 13

Much to his displeasure, Gavin ended up having to stay late at work.

Sadly, no amount of his arguing with Geoff was going to help because they both needed to finish editing their videos that were due to be posted tomorrow.

Besides, it isn’t like he could outright tell his boss, ‘ _I can’t stay, I need to go have a serious talk with my future husband_.’

So, Michael was left only able to give Gavin a strained look as he left the Achievement Hunter office, preparing to go home for the night.

Maybe this would finally teach Gavin not to leave everything until last minute like an idiot, but he wasn’t counting on it. Both because he can see into the goddamn future, but also he knows that editing is one of Gavin’s least favorite things to do.

He almost wishes though that Gavin would jump aboard the not-having-to-stay-late train, simply because now he’s all alone in his apartment, stuck thinking about all that’s transpired today at the office, and unable to actually do anything about it.

His apartment is extremely quiet, and it isn’t helping.

Michael considers turning on the television, but settles for remaining to lay stomach-up on his couch like an angsty teenager. At least his ceiling is an interesting shade of white, but honestly trying to distract himself with nonexistent color schemes isn’t doing much to keep Gavin off his mind.

He wonders what the man is thinking right now. Surely by the time they actually do get the chance, the shock will have worn off for him and they’ll be able to discuss this like the adults they are. Well, sometimes are.

Michael clearly didn’t handle the news well when it had first been forcibly shown to him, but then again, Gavin was also a stranger at that time.

They actually know each other now. They’re practically best friends that are glued at the hip, and it’s quite clear that Gavin’s developed some more than friendly feelings toward him. The only problem is that Michael doesn’t fucking know if he returns those or not.

You’d think life would be easy when you’re psychic. Turns out it’s just as shitty and confusing as it is for everybody else.

This impending conversation might not end well. When would a conversation like this ever end well? Gavin might be a lighthearted and easy-going guy, but this is an particular situation where Michael has no idea how he’s going to respond.

He could easily look into the future and know the exact outcome of all of this, but he doesn’t. Simply for the reasons he doesn’t do it anytime that there’s drama like this going on, which has since tripled since Gavin has entered his life.

It’d be like cheating, in a way.

Michael may like the advantage of psychic abilities, but he still craves to live normally through it. He doesn’t want everything to be ruined by himself.

It’s like accidentally reading a spoiler for a movie, and he sure as hell doesn’t want to know all of the plot twists in his life before they happen.

He’s okay with using visions to get what he wants, but he still isn’t sure if he actually wants Gavin or not.

Or, maybe he does. He doesn’t actually know anymore.

If the visions weren’t so persistent, he might have actually been able to figure it out for himself, but now he’s still in this horrible grey-area where he’s battling with himself on if he wants to prove them wrong or not.

And forcing Gavin to be stuck in the middle of his indecision is making him feel a lot more guilty than he ever thought it would.

This has been one huge confusing headache from the start, and he’s desperately hoping that this conversation will put an end to it all.

He closes his eyes every once in a while, allowing short visions to lazily play behind his eyelids just to pass time. Not even pretending to feel annoyed when they just end up being visions of he and Gavin.

_Michael groans as soon as the piercing cry reaches his ears. It echoes throughout the hallway from the baby’s room, but it sounds worse coming from the staticy screech of the baby monitor on their bedside table._

_Gavin lets out an identical noise of annoyance, tightening his arms around his husbands waist and then proceeds to bury his face into his back._

_"Your turn," Michael instructs._

_"I don’t want it to be my turn."_

_"Well, too bad cause it is," he states. both of their eyes still closed as they refuse to come to terms with the fact that their child is unhappily awake. "She probably just needs a diaper change."_

_"But I don’t want to do that."_

_"Man up and touch your daughters shit."_

_Gavin lets out a childish whine, wildly flinging his arms around the bed and furiously kicking his legs like a child having a tantrum. “But I’ll get poopy on me!”_

_"Your daughter probably has poopy on her right now, how do you think she feels?" Michael smirks, much more amused at his husbands whining than he should be._

_"Why can’t you just do it?"_

_"Because I didn’t have a kid with you just so that I could be the only one changing diapers."_

_A piercing cry continues to echo through their house, causing Gavin to bend his pillow to cover his ears. It does nothing to muffle the noise, and only succeeds in annoying his husband._

_"Go fix your fucking daughter."_

_"She isn’t broken, she’s just…"_

_"Shit herself, which means you need to change her diaper. Do I really need to walk you through this parenting stuff? We’ve been dad’s for over three months now."_

_Gavin groans, lazily lifting himself so that he’s sitting up in their bed, blankets spilling off of his frame and leaving his arms cold. “I hate you,” he mutters, no real malice in his words._

_"Yeah, our marriage has gone downhill ever since the gays started marrying," he retorts sarcastically._

_Gavin snorts, “That was lame.”_

_Michael grins, “Fuck you, my jokes are funny.”_

_It’s only once they’ve stopped talking that they recognize the sudden silence. The baby’s stopped crying._

_"Do-"_

_Then she starts again._

_Gavin lets out another loud groan, this time sounding like a petulant teenager instead of responsible father. “You’re lucky I love you both,” he mutters grumpily._

_Michael turns over and peeks an eye open, not willing to allow his body to wake up anymore than this. “Love ya’ too,” he smirks at his husband’s attitude, “Now go change some diapers.”_

_After closing his eyes, he feels a firm and warm kiss being pressed to his temple, and then hears the bed whine from the loss of Gavin’s weight on it. And he smiles, because life is good sometimes, despite it’s domesticity._

He’s pulled away from his thoughts and visions when he hears a soft knock at his door.

The sound sends an uneasy twist to his stomach, but he ignores it and pulls himself off of the couch. His hair looking as though he’d taken an eight hour nap.

When he opens the door, he’s met with the sight of Gavin, staring at him with wide eyes as though he’s surprised he’s answered.

"We need to talk," is the first thing he says, not even waiting for a response before he walks into the house and unknowingly stands in the same place that he stood last time he were here. Michael would find it ironic if it weren’t for the uneasy feeling in his gut.

Luckily, Gavin appears to know when a situation calls for a serious attitude or not, but he still manages to not look stoic or angry in the slightest. The neutral attitude almost worries Michael until he realizes that he’s the same way.

Most people talk to their future husbands after they’ve been dating for a few years and have already agreed to a proposal. Michael wishes such a mundane reality could be his own.

There’s an uneasy air to the room, which doesn’t come as a surprise to ether of them. For a few moments their both just standing there, hesitantly staring at one another and unsure of what they’re supposed to do next. Getting alone together, away from prying ears, seemed to be the number one priority after Michael dropped the bomb, but now both are unsure of how this conversation is supposed to begin.

"So… we get married," Gavin asks, keeping a calm face that only holds a touch of confusion to it. It isn’t said like a question, but it’s clear that he wants an answer.

Michael’s thankful that he’s much more straight forward and to the point that he is, because it had actually taken him quite a well to admit that small fact on his own to anyone other than Lindsay.

"Yeah," he simply confirms, giving a curt and quick nod.

"Okay, that’s…" Gavin trails off, looking up in deep thought. The expression of his face is entirely unreadable, but that isn’t too surprising. "…An odd thing to process, I guess."

"Is it?"

"Yeah, I mean, if it wasn’t already obvious enough, I do have a somewhat crush on you."

Michael smirks without humor at the word ‘somewhat,’ but Gavin either doesn’t notice or draw attention to it. As if he wasn’t able to tell by Gavin practically shoving his tongue down his throat a few days ago.

"So, you’ve probably already seen me naked."

Michael nods as though that concept means nothing, “Oh, yeah.”

"So you know about… everything."

"You mean your weird balls and  _surgical staple_?” he mocks the accent, using air quotations like Gavin does in their future, “Yep.”

"Huh. It’s weird to think that I end up marrying the person that I fancy," he murmurs, almost to himself as he looks down at his shoes. It doesn’t take long for him too look up again, his eyes shining with eager curiosity, "When did you find out?"

"When we first met."

"Is that why you’d run off immediately?"

"Yeah."

"Were you annoyed?"

He refrains from answering immediately. Gavin’s feelings are still high on his list of concerns at the moment, and he still isn’t quite sure how this conversation is going to turn out. “Want the truth?”

It takes Gavin a moment to answer, but he finally nods. “…Yes.”

"Then, yes. I was."

"Why?"

"Because I had no fucking idea who you were. The only reason I’d even known your name was because of a few videos on the internet and gossip throughout the company we work at. It’s kind of weird to find out that you’re going to end up marrying somebody that you’d only just met."

Gavin nods thoughtfully, “True.” But then his expression turns bewildered, “Is that why you avoided me for so long? Because you were embarrassed about it?”

"I wasn’t embarrassed, I was fucking angry."

"Angry?"

"Yeah, because no matter what the fuck I would do, the visions of you and I being married just wouldn’t fucking stop."

Then Gavin seems to understand. “…And you  _wanted_  them to stop.” It isn’t a question, more like a realization that he’s attempting to come to terms with.

"Of course I did. You were an annoying asshole that I couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard I tried. I didn’t want to get married, especially not to you."

Gavin nods, his face stoic as he speaks, “…But the visions of us being married continued even though you were ignoring me?”

"Yeah. Eventually I gave in though, and decided that if ignoring you isn’t going to work, then just being your friend would. And now I don’t even think that _that’s_  fucking working.”

"So, why did you deny it for so long?"

"It annoyed me. My future was basically telling me that I was going to marry you no matter how much I tried to avoid it from happening. You, a total stranger at the time, were going to become my fucking dearly beloved and it fucking pissed me off because I could see all of this stuff. I had to be subjected to watching our entire future while you remained entirely oblivious to how happy we’d be together."

Gavin’s quiet for a few seconds until he finally says, “But don’t you want to be happy?”

"Yeah, of course I do."

"And you don’t think you’d be happy with me?"

"That’s not it, Gavin. The entire point is that I  _know_  I’m happy with you. I know how much fun we have all of the time as an obnoxious lovey dovey married couple. I know it  _all_.”

"All?"

"Yes. I know what it’s like to wake up next to you in bed, cook breakfast together, go out on silly dates for no reason other than the desire to be close to one another, cuddle of our hideous fucking couch that you bought for us only because I dared you that you wouldn’t. I know  _everything_  about our perfect fucking future that we have together, Gavin. And I  _hate_  it.”

"But why?"

"Because I don’t want to know all of that shit! I don’t want to experience what it’s like to be with you before I’m actually  _with_  you.”

"You didn’t want to be with me anyways," Gavin points out, but instead of looking smug about being right, he just looks a mix between crestfallen and despondent.

Michael sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, “I don’t know anymore, Gavin. Why am I always the one that’s supposed to know? Just because I can see into the stupid future doesn’t mean that I hold all of the answers. I’m just as confused about all of this shit as you are.”

"Nobody expects you to hold all of the answers." Gavin mumbles, almost to himself as he looks back and forth between Michael and his shoes.

"What do you mean?"

"I  _mean_ ,” he states, “Seeing every possibility of circumstance of the future isn’t going to do anything to clear up that confusion. Nothing is set in stone, that’s the saying, right? You get to choose what happens in your life, no matter how insistent the visions are in telling you otherwise.”

"These visions have dictated my entire life, Gav. So much that I don’t fucking know what  _I_  want anymore. I don’t know if being with you is something I want, I don’t think I even knew in the beginning when we first met and I had that stupid vision to begin with.”

Gavin scrunches his eyebrows together in concentration for a few moments before reaching out and grabbing Michael by the shoulders. “Let’s forget about the visions for a moment. Let’s forget about everything that has to do with the future and your abilities to see it.”

Michael’s never did that before. The visions have decided his whole life. He’d gotten through school with them, gotten his dream job, and (so far) has gotten a pretty successful life. All because he’d let his glimpses into the future make every single decision for him.

"What do  _you_  think?” Gavin asks.

And that’s when Michael’s brain to mouth filter has decided that it’s a good time to stop working, because,  _fuck_ , he has a lot to say.

"What do I think? I think that I fucking hate you, Gavin Free," he starts, that opening already making the boy take a step back from him, "I hate you so goddamn much. I was going through life so perfectly. I could foresee everything and prevent all of the negatives. I had a perfect goddamn life. Just some idiotic bachelor playing video games for a living without any real care in the world."

He doesn’t even care how harsh his words are, because they’re absolutely true, and he isn’t even finished yet.

"And you stroll in with your stupid hair, and your stupid noise, and your stupid fucking skinny jeans…" he lets out an exasperated sigh, "… And I don’t know anymore, Gavin. You just have a knack for fucking things up with your presence."

He should stop, but he isn’t even close to getting everything out yet. Gavin asked him what he thinks, and he’s damn well going to hear it all.

"But the thing is that… I’m  _okay_  with spending the rest of my life with you. And not just because I’ve seen how happy and ecstatic we are just to be in one another’s presence. But because I like you. You  _now_ … Not future-you that I’m married to and in love with. Because, to be honest I don’t really know anything about that Gavin. All I know is that one day I’m going to be head over heels in love with him. Right now I know everything about  _you_. Every stupid fucking detail that I shouldn’t give two shits about. It’s like you’ve somehow made me become obsessed with the prospect of you and everything surrounding you without the visions having anything to do with it. And it isn’t fair that I’ve had to slowly fall in love with you all while while watching us have a happy future together, and then stubbornly push it all away because I thought that was the last thing I wanted. I don’t know if it’s unfair to  _you_  or unfair to  _me_ , but all I know is that it’s just not fucking  _fair_.”

The only sound after that is Michael trying to catch his breath. He may be well known for his excessive talking and the loud volume in which he does it, but he isn’t used to putting so much raw passion into it. He’d rather just scream profanities at the top of his lungs.

Gavin doesn’t seem to know how to register his words. He blinks a few times, the owlish expression on his face almost humorous. Gavin’s fairly well known for his verbal talents as well, but those talents consist of odd noises and uncontrolled squeaks. Not serious conversations about thoughts, relationships, and feelings. Which is something he’d never been all too fond of having in the first place.

"So, what are you saying?" he finally murmurs, his voice almost startling Michael because of how accustomed he’d become to the silence. He had been more focused on leveling out his breathing and examining Gavin’s reaction than the think of how to respond to whatever comes out of his mouth next.

Michael takes a deep breath and does his best to imitate a casual shrug. “I’m _saying_  that I don’t care about the future. I never have. I don’t want the stupid visions to run my life anymore. I’m going to do whatever I want, and if that means doing the complete opposite of them, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

He hears the sharp intake of breath that Gavin takes, almost as if to counteract the one Michael’d taken before speaking, but he knows it’s just from the reaction to his words. “Oh,” he says, not expanding any further than that.

Although Gavin’s always been good at hiding his emotions, Michael can see and hear the disappointment.

"I don’t care about the future," Michael repeats, "I care about  _now_ … and I care about  _you_.”

Gavin expression changes dramatically, as he wasn’t expecting Michael speech to take such an expected turn. He was already preparing himself to accept the rejection and try not to visibly show how crushed he is by it.

He definitely wasn’t expecting an admittance of care.

He doesn’t get a chance to verbalize his thoughts though, because Michael continues. Which isn’t all that big of a surprise, because everybody knows that Michael is well known for his ability to talk, and he still has to make up for all of the times he’d forced himself to stay quiet around Gavin during their first encounters.

"And I’m willing to give  _our_  future a chance, as long as it isn’t run by these visions. I don’t want to conform to a mold that’s already been set, I just want to continue this thing that we have going now. And if it ends with us getting married, then okay. But I don’t want the visions making me feel like that’s now it  _has_  to be.”

Gavin nods his head slightly, his lips pursed as he thinks over everything that’s just occurred. It is quite a lot of information to take in over such a brief period of time, and Michael feels for him because at least he isn’t running away to hide in the bathroom like he did.

He recovers a lot quicker than Michael had assumed, and does so with an innocent yet almost hopeful smile. “So… We’re dating?”

Michael has to laugh at that because he’d been expecting Gavin to respond with something a little more serious and a lot less high-school-teenager.

It’s almost scary how easily Gavin is able to influence his emotions. One moment he’s ranting so much that’s he’s out of breath and panting by the end of it, his forehead almost aching because of his eyebrows raising to express the passion in his words. And now he’s chuckling, trying to hold back his amusement.

"I wouldn’t say  _dating_ -“

Gavin cuts him off with a mischievous grin, “But you care about me though!”

Michael smiles, “I didn’t say that.”

"You definitely did."

"… Maybe I’m willing to admit to it. But just this once."

"You admit to having feelings for me?"

"I admit to _caring_ about you,” he states with a smile, and when Gavin’s grin grows, he has to tag on a, “to an extent.”

"Oh yeah? And are you going to ignore it and avoid me this time?" he smirks.

"Nah, maybe I don’t mind this as much as I thought I would," he murmurs, the words already bringing him the relief he’s been searching for.

"I wouldn’t mind marrying you at some point," Gavin jokes with a mischievous giggle, just because he knows this kind of conversation will do nothing but annoy him.

"Eh," Michael shrugs, giving an air of nonchalance, "I’m willing to put up with you for the sake of our daughter."

That makes Gavin’s smile drop entirely off of his face and his eyes widen in shock, “We have a  _daughter_!?”

He grins at his own mischief and turns around to innocently walk to the living room. “I’ve said too much,” he mumbles innocently with a wave of his hand.

It feels good to be able to be the asshole for once and get the upper hand in their silly banter,

"No, Michael!" Gavin squeals, jumping forward to leap onto his back, "You can’t just say things like that and then leave!"

"I’m pretty sure I can do whatever I want," he says, over exaggerating his groan in response to the weight of Gavin attempting to crawl up his back. The guy seriously feels like he weighs seven pounds.

"Marriage is an equal partnership!"

"We aren’t married!"

"Not yet!"

"I’m the psychic one here, you can’t use the future against me!"

"I’m pretty sure I can do whatever I want," he mimics, but lets out a screech when Michael easily bucks him off of his back.

When they’re facing each other again, he’s sure that Gavin’s grin matches his own.

This is fun. That’s all it is. What was supposed to be (and started out as) a serious and adult conversation, has quickly become laughter, smiles, playful fighting, and ridiculous jokes. Acting just like future-he-and-Gavin.

Maybe marriage isn’t just some formal agreement for stiffy adults that’s filled with responsibilities and boring decisions about money and houses. It’s about having fun with another person. Having somebody to share silly jokes and giggles with when you would otherwise have nobody. Always having somebody to lean on even when you don’t think you need it.

Right now, in theory, he’s content to let that person be Gavin.

And it might only be because this reminds him all too much of those visions involving he and Gavin having lazy days and bantering back and forth with nothing but love in their expressions, but right now he feels the overwhelming urge to pull Gavin closer and kiss him.

Maybe the future-Gavin and future-Michael aren’t so different from this Gavin and Michael, because it’s only a few moments before they’re ending this playful argument in the same way that they do as a married couple.

Michael wouldn’t be able to tell you who made the first move. All he knows is that one second he’s staring into Gavin’s eyes, trying to distinguish exactly what color they are, and then the next they’re kissing.

His eyes flutter closed and his hands moves up to cup the back of Gavin’s head. Fingers curling into the light brown locks much like how he’d seen himself do to the boy multiple times in his visions.

Gavin’s own arms curl around his waist, pulling him closer as though he’s desperate for more contact and intimacy.

He’d seen himself kissing Gavin multiple times in his visions, but none of that actually compares to actually feeling the press of his lips against Michael’s own.

The first time they’d kissed was filled with alcohol induced decisions, complicated emotions, and an overall haze of confused affection. This one isn’t. Michael wouldn’t be able to describe it using actual words though, he’s much too busy focusing on both the kiss itself and

He’s in an odd state of half being here and half being entranced into a vision. Every instance of he and Gavin kissing is flashing before his eyes like his brain is trying to send him some kind of twisted message.

The playful ones that are shared with laughter interrupting them. The more intimate ones that happen behind closed doors and underneath well-used bed sheets. The ones that happen during major life moments like their wedding, birth of their child, and so many anniversaries. Good morning kisses, goodnight kisses, wake-the-fuck-up kisses. Kisses that happen in the middle of a huge fight where they’re screaming at one another with angered passion.

After every one, when they part ways, Michael can see that look in Gavin’s eyes. Nothing but pure love and adoration for the man in front of him filling them.

It’s the same look that this Gavin has. When his vision ends and they end their own kiss, the first of many by the looks of it, and Gavin refuses to completely step away and detangle his arms from around Michael’s torso.

"You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that again," Gavin smiles at him, just pure cheeky satisfaction in his eyes.

"Luckily for you, you have the rest of your life to do it."

He just grins, almost bouncing as he ­leans forward to press another kiss to his new boyfriend’s cheek. There’s a smug tone in his voice as says, “And how could you  _possibly_  know that?”

Michael smirks, “Just a hunch.”

They stare into each other eyes, and the emotion is already familiar because he’d seen it so many times before.

And, somehow, he isn’t as annoyed by it this time.


End file.
